


Stellar Evolution

by starsoup



Category: Block B
Genre: Angst, Explicit Language, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-01
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-05-16 20:06:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 144,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14818025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starsoup/pseuds/starsoup
Summary: It’s a good time to walk away now, Kyung thinks. He’s feeling stupidly fond of Jiho and the confused, pouty look isn't helping. He thinks if he spends any longer with Jiho right in that moment, things will only get worse. And they do; Kyung witnesses the rise and fall of Woo Jiho.





	1. Dissimilarity

They’re meeting was atypical. It’s early August at the time when they first meet, the weather still warm, so in the afternoons students spend lunch period eating outside. There’s little cliques of teenage boys that loiter in the back-parking lot or by the buildings on the far east side of the campus, and more neatly organized parties of girls settled at the tables outside the library or standing around the front gates of the main entrance. 

Kyung settles in step behind his usual group, refusing to interject in any conversations. It wasn’t that he was disinterested, just that he preferred to only listen. Anyway, they weren’t particularly close to Kyung, and didn’t miss his input much. So, things worked out best this way.

They were friends not because of any major reason. None of them had any significant common interest, nothing worth sharing, only that they all had the same passive type of personality that kept them good company for one another. Admittedly, it was boring, and only got more so as the years went by. Kyung was, by this point, growing tired of the uneventfulness, but had no good reason to leave, and no good place to go. They were already weeks into their third year in the school, embarking on what was supposedly the most difficult period in high school. Abandoning his friends for some nonexistent excitement at this point seemed like nothing but a frivolous whim: not to be acted on.

Despite that conclusion that Kyung had arrived to on multiple occasions, it evidently did not take much to incite him. It happened all at once, but it would be unrealistic to say that he hadn’t accumulated interest in this type of deviance since before.

It was during an uninteresting class that Kyung had made the excuse of needing to use the restroom to leave that he happened upon something he wasn’t supposed to have witnessed. 

At a purposely slow-paced walk back to the classroom, he had run into a couple. The problem wasn’t that he had run into a couple- it was regular for rebellious feeling teenagers to skip entire class periods to meet with their girlfriends or boyfriends to do nothing but make out, because they were young and curious and didn’t care for much else in these types of relationships. Kyung had no problem with it either, it was awkward to run into, but certainly not his place to intervene or feel offended at. 

Awkward. Yet this once, he couldn’t help but stare a second too long, face then shamefully red at being noticed.

They were boys. 

The shorter of the two had meekly peeked from behind the other’s shoulder for only a second before bolting out from between him and the wall. The other boy glared over his shoulder a second longer, looking angry and something else Kyung couldn’t put his finger on at the moment. Fearing confrontation, and feeling guilty for an unclear reason, Kyung was first to run off quickly, bowing his head and giving a rushed apology. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about it. He tried hard to focus in class after that, in hopes that what he had just witnessed would be forgotten and never spoken of again. The second half of every equation he attempted was left undone, his mind victim to the nagging thought of the boys from earlier. 

What they were doing was _wrong_. Yet Kyung had no reason to bring attention to their being _wrong_. The only reasonable response left then would be to forget about it. Obvious as the solution was, he couldn’t stop thinking of it. He wasn’t entirely sure of what the shorter of the two had looked like, and he was disinterested in the skittish, almost cowardly abandonment that the boy had pulled. Maybe that was why Kyung’ attention couldn’t help but return to the other boy, who had been bold enough to glare back. Greasy black hair left untrimmed too long, an unforgiving sharp-eyed stare, and unmistakable vulnerability. The image made him shudder. 

Kyung spent break sitting in the library, absentmindedly flicking through pages of notes that needed reviewing, and then certainly did poorly on the test in the period following but managed to go home still uncaring. 

When too long goes by with the thought still clinging to him, he tries to justify it in any way possible. It must be due to some curiosity, nothing more. Despite that having been decided the reason of his fixation, later at the dinner table the boy’s face still occupies his thoughts, causing him to miss whatever questions his parents had directed towards him. In between being scolded, he pieces together that he had missed some question on how his test was. He makes a big deal of confessing that it didn’t go as well as planned, and that that was what had left his mind too preoccupied to notice their speaking to him. Annoyed but at the very least, appeased, his parents return to discussing something else without making further effort to include Kyung in the conversation. 

The next week or so goes uneventful as usual, and eventually Kyung manages to push the thought of that prior evening’s events away. It isn’t until the next week, on a Tuesday during a passing period that things catch up to him. 

He’s grabbed by the collar of his shirt and dragged back through the small space between two classrooms. There’s a brief moment in which he could have yelled, but he misses it and a hand is conveniently placed over his mouth to muffle anything he has thought to say after that moment. He struggles stupidly for a minute at most, settling on only wanting to see who he’s managed to piss off this bad. He fails, and only gets to orient himself when he’s finally dropped on the hard gravel of one of the relatively empty staff parking lots. Kyung wastes a moment coughing and rubbing his hands on his pants before sitting back on his heels to look up. 

Somehow, it’s not so shocking that the boy who has brought him here is the one he had intruded on the week earlier. Still, his breath catches in his throat and he can’t find the courage to say anything. His mouth feels dry, heart beating just a little too fast. 

Unprompted, the still nameless boy says, “What you saw before, if anyone else hears about it, I’ll really get rid of you.” The threat sounds empty, but it still has Kyung shivering. The boy really went through all this effort to find him. He must have thought about Kyung just as much in the past week. 

“Right, right. I wasn’t going to say anything.”

There’s silence, like the boy isn’t sure if he can trust Kyung. Kyung can see the dilemma being thought through in his face: even if he can’t trust Kyung, there’s no way he can ensure the promise is kept, and no way to put more impact to his word. In the time that the boy is gaping for a final threat, Kyung speaks up.

“Was he your...boyfriend?”

It sounds a little ridiculous now that he hears it aloud, but he can’t reasonably see them being anything else. Then again, what does he know? He’s never met anyone like this before, he’s unsure about assumptions.

The boy looks taken aback, then disgusted, spitting irritably, “No, of course not.”

Kyung stares blankly at him, only more confused now. The boy seems to get it, and sighs frustratedly, shaking his head so strands of soft black hair comes loose from behind his ear. It brings Kyung’ attention to the two little rings in his ear. Distantly, the bell for the class period’s starting sounds. 

“I’m not dating him now and wasn’t before.” 

Kyung nods unsurely, too wary to argue, so he settles for what feels to him, a crucial introduction: “I’m Kyung, I guess we’re not in the same class, I’m in year eleven and I'll keep your secret.” 

It sounds incredibly stupid. Despite it all, the boy laughs, and it's an endearing type of laugh- kind of too loud and almost ugly, eyes creased at the corners. Kyung’s stupidity seems enough to bring the boy to trust him, because he responds in a considerably nicer tone, “Jiho. I’m graduating this year.” 

Kyung doesn’t get the chance to say much else before the older boy leaves, but he can’t complain, there wasn’t much else to be said.

There doesn’t seem any reason to not think of Jiho now. They’re practically friends, thinks Kyung. By that evenings lunch break, Kyung has thought about him so much that he’s worked up the resolve to leave his friends for Jiho. When the bell rings, he rushes to slide all his papers into his bag and leaves before the teachers even wrapped up the lecture.

Kyung has thought about it enough to have narrowed down where Jiho could be. Most upperclassmen had either established places to eat at the courtyard, or got off campus altogether, and Jiho seemed to be the latter. With the stress of possibly missing him, Kyung made sure to run along one edge of the school, fixated on the backs of lingering students waiting for friends before leaving. He’d been looking for days.

It was the Friday of that same week, and he was out of breath by the time he was turning onto the other side of campus, and was losing hope, when he caught a glance of the boy.

There was a small band of boys with him, about three others, hanging around the torn fence as if waiting for someone. Jiho stands out among them, whether due to his own uniqueness or to Kyung’s interest in him, is left for interpretation. The older boy’s button up is untucked and creased, sweater and tie both absent, and two buttons undone at his neck. Peering out from behind overgrown plants, Kyung takes an extra minute to drink in the untidy, reckless appearance of the boy, before realizing the other boys are very similar. Of the remaining three, only the tallest boy has his entire uniform worn properly. The shortest of the four has rid of his sweater entirely, and the tie is pulled loose, and while the other at least has every article of clothing, it’s all put together too messily. 

Kyung redirects his gaze towards Jiho only to see him staring back. The relaxed demeanor has escaped Jiho completely, and he takes a few steps in Kyung’s direction.

“What’re you doing here?”

The shorter boy seems annoyed, but the other two find it funny and jump into some difficult to follow joke while Jiho approaches Kyung.

“I- I just wanted to-”

There’s a louder burst of laugh, and Kyung leans slightly to catch a look at now all three of the boys laughing uncontrollably. He feels his ears go red, wishes he had thought this through just a few minutes longer.

The shortest boy, finding himself clever, finishes for Kyung, “He just wanted to see you, Jiho.” One of the other two chimes in, “Isn’t that cute”. There’s more stifled giggling. 

Jiho rolls his eyes, trying to suppress a grin, but he’s obviously got a soft spot for his friends and would have just as eagerly joined in on their jokes had the circumstances been different. The trio’s commentary dissolves into pointless laughter again, one punching the others arm harmlessly. Jiho sighs, but it’s hard to miss the fondness there. 

Kyung tries to swallow the embarrassment bubbling up inside, shrugs and gives a well-executed grin. “I’ll be entirely honest, I did miss you, ever since that moment we shared outside of class.” 

It’s Jiho’s turn to go quiet, as the spotlight shifts on him, his friend’s too quick to lose any bit of the conversation. They cheer and laugh, pulling at Jiho’s arm and mocking his sudden silence. They’re caught up in overly excited chatter when another two figures show up at the other side of the fence, one staring coolly while the other shouts, “Ya, Jiho, what’s going on?” 

The boys are quick to turn and are already scrambling up the mound towards the fence, before Jiho has responded. Their hurry to meet with the other two seems answer enough, because Jiho maintains his attention on Kyung, and the playful grin reserved for his friends returns to his expression. 

“Come with me then.”

Kyung thinks he’s about to faint from the excitement, and nods almost too eagerly. 

 

Jiho introduces “his boys” as they walk away from school. Kyung had cast a nervous thought on what repercussions ditching class would leave him with, as their lunch break was only thirty minutes, but it was too late to go back anyway. So, he busies himself on learning about Jiho through his descriptions of his friends. 

“Jaehyo, Taeil, Yukwon and I are all the same age, except, Yukwon dropped out last year to work at his Pa’s shop. He’s saving up to move out with his girlfriend soon, and his dad’s good about paying him for the work he gets done, long as he’s doing his work right.”

Kyung nods, looking towards Yukwon who doesn’t respond to the introduction in anyway. He’s not necessarily older seeming, he just seems reserved, because he doesn’t take a break from sharing his witty input when it comes to side conversations with the other boys.

“Jihoons’s a lot younger than us, but we let him tag along because Jaehyo’s brother knew him. And he’s an alright kid, but we take care of him good cuz he’s kind of young to get caught up in anything bad. Anyway, then there’s Minhyuk. I met him back in junior high, though he’s a year older than us. We really hated the idea of him leaving town, and he planned to, too. But they messed up his applications to that stupid university and so he’s stuck here with the rest of us. The least he can do is deal with me a little longer, it’ll make him feel useful, I’m sure.” 

Kyung likes the way Jiho talks, the way he makes everything personal. It’s not narcissistic or breaching on oversharing, just pleasantly insightful. Anyway, Kyung assumes the other boys don’t mind Jiho sharing their stories so easy, because no one complains, and they all seem bored of bugging Kyung already. 

He’s mulling it over then, all the boys and their stories. It’s easy for him to assume something’s up with all of them, there has to be something that makes them a little gang like this. He thinks that Yukwon and Minhyuk’s story are indicators enough, two dropouts, just in different ways. 

As if reading Kyung’s mind, Taeil slows his step to walk in time with Kyung so he can ask, with an eyebrow raised, “So what’s your baggage?” 

The question has Kyung sputtering, taken aback, almost offended. Sure, he had just assumed that there was something odd about the others, but it’s another thing entirely for them to outright ask _him_. His loss for words has Taeil rolling his eyes, and Jaehyo adding for him with an amused grin, “You don’t end up following Jiho ‘less you have something wrong with you.” It occurs to him that the only thing they must be implying is that he’s like Jiho- that he’s really followed Jiho out here because of some perverse desire, because something’s wrong with him in the same way something’s wrong with Jiho. 

“I’m not- I’m not like him. I’m not queer.” Everyone gets quiet at the tone Kyung speaks in.

The five boys, excluding Jiho himself, are glaring, and Yukwon hisses, “God, where’d you find this jerk? He’s as trash as the rest, isn’t he?” Yet, the look exchanged between Jiho and Yukwon isn’t anger,Yukwon looks concerned. The other’s range from uneasy to annoyed, but for reasons that Kyung can’t fully comprehend. 

“There’s nothing wrong with Jiho being like that,” Jihoon gently asserts, leaning his head on Jiho’s shoulder for a moment. “That’s not what Taeil meant at all.” 

Everyone looks so upset, Kyung regrets saying anything. He’s offended them, but he’s not fully sure of how he’s said anything that’s crossed a line. He’s trying to understand when Jiho speaks up, “It’s fine, I don’t think he meant it bad at all, I figure he’s the type to not be the brightest outside of books or somethin’”. No one seems to fully believe Jiho, but they can’t drag things out if he says not to, so they resume walking, only quieter. No one asks Kyung to leave, so he takes a few, hesitant steps with them, waiting for instruction.

“Look, kid, I know it’s different and all, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with me, and if you disagree, just leave us alone.” For some reason, it still feels like a lot to take in. Jiho keeps going, “But different’s hard to get, and it’s okay if it takes a while to get it.” His tone is gentle and understanding, and just watching him speak like this, serious and close, is captivating. Kyung lets himself stare at Jiho’s mouth, the way the words form between full, soft lips. Kyung gives a slow nod, really thinking over the words and trying not to let Jiho’s expression change how he feels about them. He’s still left thinking about it all when everyone’s stopping in a parking lot a block off, the boys naturally splitting off into two groups. Kyung feels torn and confused, but not at all daunted. For some reason, he trusts Jiho, and even if he doesn’t feel comfortable with the others, he’d go with them if Jiho told him it’d be safe. 

Yukwon leans against the door of a car, that’s presumably his own, Taeil and Jaehyo bickering over who sits where. Kyung shifts uncomfortably, looks to Jiho, then back at the ground. Yukwon lets the two argue, but Jihoon makes a small effort at ending it. With the background noise of the trio, Kyung feels out of place and reflects on the oddity of it all. These aren’t his type of people, and yet, they’re not anymore unattached to him than his old friends were. It occurs to him that he’s feeling jealous; it’s evident the six are long-time friends with more to hold them together than being forced into companionship in classrooms. Age and parting directions of life haven’t shifted them apart, and somehow that makes their bond seem desirable. It must be nice. 

“Kyung.”

Finger curl around his wrist, warm and soft, and Kyung looks to see Jiho pulling him along. “Let’s go in Minhyuk’s truck, ‘kay?” Kyung doesn’t respond, just gives in and lets Jiho pull him whichever way. For some reason, he thinks it might be like this a lot, and he wouldn’t mind that. It’s exciting, and that’s what he’s always wanted, right? There’s something inexplicably different about this moment, about this feeling. This is a turning point, and Kyung figures he should let it happen.

Kyung has never been in a truck, he’s usually in his friends’ cars, borrowed from their parents, and none of them are from that type of home, where they might need a truck. It’s a little odd to him, because he hadn’t thought about how they’d all fit. But Jiho guides him, letting go of his wrist to direct him towards the center seat, palms pushing against his hips in a hurry. They sit really close, because when Minhyuk gets in the driver’s seat, Kyung feels he’s a little too close for how they’re practically strangers, so Jiho tugs Kyung a little closer to his side. He looks down to see their thighs almost touching, and sometimes their arms brush. That feels exciting too, like they’re friends, if Kyung just ignores the quickening of his heartbeat. 

They get food, all seven of them, and it surprises Kyung the extent to which they make an effort to include him. They make a point to sit him in the middle of one side of the booth and ceaselessly ask a variety of witless questions. When the bills given Yukwon pays quickly, and brushes off Jihoon’s protest, saying someone else will pay next time. They’re piling back into their respective rides, and Kyung knows where to head this time, but he feels Jiho’s hands steady him anyway, and can’t find reason to stop him.

They drive down to some beach and mess around until the suns about to go down. Kyung’ parents must be worried sick, yet he can’t bring himself to care. He’s got sand in his hair and he’s not entirely sure where his shoes have gone, but everything feels good in that moment. It’s a Friday night, chilly air turning ears and noses red, and laughter ringing clear across the beach; there’s no reason to worry on a night like this. 

And the thing is, they have him feeling genuinely wanted. The distrust from before has subsided, and everyone works to get Kyung to open up. They include him in their games and conversations and actively seek him out even when he’s preoccupied with talking to someone else. Repeatedly throughout the day, Kyung loses track of Jiho, though Jiho always seems to come back to him eventually. For example, when the suns setting, and Jiho shows up behind Kyung, arm settling across the younger’s shoulders. “Don’t your parents care where you’re wandering around, who you’re out with?” Kyung shrugs.

Still, Kyung knows that there’s no point in pretending, his parents are probably worried. So, he gives in and tells Jiho it’s best he heads home, that he can probably walk back because he doesn’t want to bother Minhyuk into driving him home. Jiho insists they give him a ride, but eventually they compromise and Jiho ends up walking him. 

Kyung had gotten home late, wrote off his past-curfew arrival as consequence of a party (something his parents rarely heard from him) and then feigned incredible tiredness before climbing the stairs quickly towards his bedroom. His parents, considering their son’s infrequent social endeavors, let the violation of curfew slide.

The entire following day proceeds in an ordinary manner which suddenly seems incredibly boring. One of his friends drops by to offer watching some movie, but it seems underwhelming and Kyung makes the excuse of homework. When he really does try to do some homework, it goes nowhere, his thoughts tangled up in other things. Overall, the day feels underwhelming and Kyung ends up going to bed early, feeling put off.

 

Sunday morning, Kyung wakes to the sound of tapping at his window. In a hurry to get out of bed, his legs get caught in the sheets, sending him tumbling over the edge. When he’s finally scrambled to the window, it’s Yukwon hanging onto the trellis that’s propped up against the house’s wall. Below, Jaehyo and Jihoon seem to be waiting, both looking up expectantly. Still disoriented, Kyung fumbles with the lock before sliding the window open and blurting out an annoyed, “What?”

It doesn’t take any convincing for them to get him to go with them. They ask, and he complies at the sound of Jiho’s name. To elaborate, their invitation went something like, “We were gonna go hang out someplace, head to a mall later, and Jiho said we should stop to get you.” As Kyung hurries to pull on a tee shirt and clean jeans, all he can think is about Jiho having remembered where he lives, about Jiho wanting him to come. He scribbles a quick note about going out to study and sticks it to his door before clumsily following Yukwon down the window.

They’re in Yukwon’s car this time, Taeil sitting shotgun. When the four had walked around the corner and got up close to the car doors, Kyung could see Jiho resting his head on his arms, sticking out from the backseat window. With six of them and one car, it was a tight fit, but Kyung couldn’t really complain. The remaining four piled into the back, Kyung pressed between the door and Jiho. When the door refused to shut fully, Jiho took the initiative to pull Kyung towards himself by his thigh, so Kyung was sat half in the older boy’s lap. Kyung had to look out the window the whole ride to hide his embarrassment. 

They’re like that for a while, always dropping by to pick up Kyung. For a week or so, he feels like he’s imposing on them, and stays out of their business during school hours. Eventually, they find him even then, tugging him along to eat with them. And just like that, slowly they’ve made a permanent space for him in their cars, and in the booth at their favorite diners, and at their lunch table and on the couch when they go to Jihoon’s house for movies and altogether, in their tight knit group. Kyung feels too lucky to ask Jiho why they’ve let him hang around so long, and he’s too caught up in the fun of it all to wonder if this is right. Anyway, when he’s at the movies with the boys, and Jiho’s arm is casually slung across his shoulder, he thinks it feels pretty right, so it’s easy to forget everything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case you missed it, i switched everyone's ages around but its just for later plot purposes. comments are very appreciated!


	2. Discovery Like Astronomy

Late in October, when the weather’s getting properly cold, Kyung has made himself at home with Jiho’s friends. It happened in a natural way. One day he stopped worrying about bothering them or about not being one of them, and he didn’t even notice. They were easy to get along with, and fun, even if a little reckless. His absences from school had gotten concerningly frequent halfway through September, causing his parents to shout at him and deem him grounded. His mother bugs him for some explanation, but he insists on it being entirely due to his own will. Something tells him his parents would disapprove of the boys, would scorn their less than prim and proper lifestyles. It only made sense that Kyung kept quiet about his new friends and promised to change his bad habit of ditching classes. So, Kyung missed a week of whatever the others were up to doing, and after that he didn’t ditch with them, which was annoying to Kyung, but there wasn’t much anyone could do about that. But other than that, things were alright, things were good. 

He had even mostly forgotten that Jiho was different.

The group of friends are all staying at school that day, sitting at a table outside even though it's kind of cold. Kyung’s ears are red from the chilly wind blowing, and Jiho leans over to tuck the younger’s scarf up to better keep them warm. Jaehyo and Taeil are just getting finished arguing, this time because Jaehyo had caught Taeil sneaking a bite of his sandwich. Jiho rolls his eyes when Jihoon gives a worried look. It’s typical of the others to tease Jaehyo, even Kyung has caught himself doing it at times. Just occasionally. 

As their squabbling dies out, Jiho takes the moment to speak, "We haven’t gone out in a while, one of my pals is throwing a party the Friday before Halloween.” He doesn’t have to prompt them further, they’re already jumping on the idea. The thing about this bunch is, they’re always looking for ways to be out of the house, always seeking excitement to blow steam off on, craving a constant buzz of adrenaline. Interest piqued, Taeil leans forward on his elbows, “They gonna have booze?” Jihoon laughs and Jaehyo shoves Taeil playfully, but despite the teasing, it’s a question they were all wondering. “Yeah, but Jihoon, you best know better than to get piss drunk or I’ll give you a beating right before your parents give all of us a beating.” 

It’s settled pretty quick that they’re all going and that Yukwon won’t come, because he works on the weekends these days. Kyung shifts around, not having offered his input yet. He’s not so sure about a party, for the most part his involvement with the guys has been harmless, mundane fun. And, he’s not really the party type, not the breaking laws type. Sure, everyone drinks, but he can’t help but feel guilty knowing they’re all underage and shouldn’t be doing that. Jiho seems to pick up on Kyung’s discomfort and settles an arm over his shoulders and offers, “I’ll come by your place at eight? We can walk together.” 

Friday night, Kyung is trying on different shirts, not quite sure what he’s looking for. He’s never noticed how few good clothes he owns. He’s not even sure who he’s trying to impress. With the worry of making Jiho wait, he ends up quickly tucking a yellow striped long sleeve into blue jeans. He’s almost out the door but finds a second to pause at the mirror and adjust his hair just slightly, sorting out the part as if he hadn’t done so only five minutes ago. Then he’s dashing out the door, yelling a reminder to his mother that he’s going for a party with his old friends.

He jogs part of the way to the corner where Jiho is waiting, feeling weirdly anxious. It’s cold, and he’s wishing he had brought a jacket, but can’t be bothered to go back. Jiho smiles at him in a way that accentuates the softness of his cheeks and makes his eyes crease at the corners. Kyung thinks it’s cute but rationalizes the thought by tagging on the idea that girls must find his smile a charming point. 

They walk to the party location talking about things that are easily forgettable. It’s not small talk, just not particularly important. At some point they’re talking about school itself, and in passing Kyung mentions his gradually declining grades. “I keep thinking I’ll get to improving it later, but I can’t be bothered lately.” Jiho pauses, face turns a little serious and pace slows. He tilts his head slightly, looking at Kyung sideways in a quizzical way. “You can’t do that. Do good in school.” The change in tone makes Kyung antsy, and he can’t see why Jiho would say as such when he himself blows off classes so frequently. But he can’t feel the courage to point out the hypocrisy, so he only gives a hesitant nod in response, letting the topic naturally change to something else. 

The door of the house is left ajar, giving way for Kyung and Jiho to slip in unnoticed. They’re alone for a while, which somehow becomes awkward now that they’re at the party, but the other boys show up soon enough. Taeil makes a beeline for the kitchen in search of alcohol before it runs out, and Jaehyo breaks away from them shortly after with Jihoon trailing behind. Feeling unsure of himself again, Kyung looks to Jiho, but he’s looking away. Feeling bothersome, he refrains from bringing attention to himself, and instead lets Jiho leave him with a pat on the shoulder. 

Alone and suddenly insecure, Kyung wanders around, stopping to get a drink at some point so he can pretend to be busy drinking. No one really notices him much, though at some point a girl with short hair and delicate hands stops him by the door to chat. She’s sweet and funny, with a lovely laugh, but Kyung feels oddly distracted. When she brushes her hand over his at some point, which she claims to be an accident, Kyung thinks briefly that Jiho’s hands might not be as soft but they’re still prettier. The thought alone repulses him, he feels weirdly nauseous and is suddenly eager to rid himself of the thought. So, when the girl has the conversation directed into flirting, he takes the hint and kisses her when she leans in. It’s not very exciting though, and he feels bad for not really being interested, so he pulls back and tells her so. He explains that he’s only just gotten over an ex, and doesn’t want to lead her on, and she nods empathetically, offering to be just friends. Kyung agrees, smiling at her and meaning it genuinely. It’s still awkward, so when he leaves with the partially true excuse of needing fresh air, she doesn’t protest and instead seems equally relieved. 

It still stands true that Jiho always seems to come back to him. When he’s sitting on the back porch with a half-gone drink in hand, Jiho wordlessly joins him, settling a hand on his leg. Since meeting Jiho, Kyung had quickly learned that Jiho was pretty touchy, so he doesn’t acknowledge it. 

Kyung doesn’t look at him either, feels guilt burning him inside out after how he’d thought about Jiho’s hands earlier. Jiho isn’t one to let things go unsaid, and he’s quick to notice Kyung’s unusual quietness, so he speaks up first, “You okay? I shouldn’t have left you, I kinda knew you were feeling off about the party, I’m-” Kyung shakes his head and stops Jiho from speaking by interjecting, “No, no it’s fine Jiho. You guys came here to have fun, I knew you wouldn’t be with me the whole time.” Hesitantly, he turns to look at Jiho. The older boy is handsome in a juvenile way, with soft unstyled black hair and dark cattish eyes. He’s got a pouty thoughtful look, and the little black moles on his face are cute; Kyung likes the one under his eye. 

“It’s no fun this way, knowing you’re all sad.”

Kyung lets out a breathy little laugh, shaking his head. He feels silly, the weighty tone feeling foolish now. “I’m gonna go home, Jiho. I guess it’s not my type of thing, but I really like you.” Jiho freezes briefly at those words but makes an evident effort at working past it to give a small smile and nod. Slightly taken aback by his own words, Kyung fixes, “I like all you guys, yeah. You and your boys, you’re all good to me, so don’t feel sorry. I’m just gonna get home.” He’s thankful for Jiho’s relaxed manner, glad he doesn’t push it further. Jiho does offer to walk him home, arguing that it’s not safe wandering about alone at night, and Kyung can’t disagree with that logic. 

It’s really really cold when they’re walking back. Kyung is practically shaking only one third of the way, tugging at his sleeves to cover his hands. Jiho has had a few drinks, and it’s just barely evident, yet he’s perceptive as he always is around Kyung. “You’re cold? You should’ve dressed warm, what if you get sick?” Kyung feels sheepish about Jiho’s doting, but he can’t really say he dislikes it. He settles for just shrugging in response, gives a grin despite his shivering and half laughs, “I just really wanted you to offer me your jacket, Jiho. That’s why I decided to risk actually freezing my ass off.” It’s a joke, and by Jiho’s laugh Kyung would have thought that that was understood, yet seconds later Kyung feels Jiho’s leather jacket settling over his shoulders. It’s still warm from the older boy having worn it, making it harder for Kyung to find the heart to give it back. He stutters for a moment, searching for words. 

“J-Jiho, I was kidding.” 

The black-haired boy pats Kyung’s shoulder and insists it’s fine, saying, “Don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t want your ass to actually-really-literally freeze off.” Kyung grins stupidly, thinks it’s funny and reason enough to put on the jacket properly. The sleeves are a lot longer on him, and it only occurs to him now that he’s considerably shorter than Jiho, but he figures it’s fine that he’s so much shorter, its cute. 

Jiho stops at the corner of his street, because by now it’s an unsaid rule not to go further whenever possible, and Kyung feels a little sad leaving Jiho. The walk back had been fun, better than the party itself. He liked slightly tipsy Jiho who nudged him in the ribs every time Kyung said something even remotely funny, and adoringly rested his head on Kyung’s shoulder every few moments. Tipsy Jiho was just a little more affectionate, somehow a little more touchy. It was good company, and Kyung blamed thinking so on his ego and the need for attention. He reluctantly takes the jacket off and hands it back to the older boy, stands there holding it out for longer than needed. Jiho is slow in taking it back too, then just holds on to it for a minute and looks at the jacket then Kyung. When the silence gets unbearable, the younger speaks up, “Thanks for walking me back, and everything. I’ll see you Monday.” Jiho looks confused, starts putting the jacket on and questions, “Why not tomorrow?” 

It’s a good time to walk away now, Kyung thinks. He’s feeling stupidly fond of Jiho and the confused, pouty look isn't helping. He thinks if he spends any longer with Jiho right in that moment, he might really do something unthinkable. He’s turned away when he responds, a teasing happiness evident in his tone, “I’ve got homework to do, Jiho. I have to keep my grades good because someone I know told me to.” He wishes he could turn and get another eyeful of Jiho, just to see the sweet red tint to his cheeks from the cold and the drinks, see his wind mussed hair. But he doesn’t, because he’d just be feeding a bad habit, and so he just keeps walking. 

 

Monday comes and Kyung gets to school ten minutes before classes start, as he usually does. Everything has always been routine in his life, even minor details as such, yet with his meeting Jiho, things progressively shifted into new ground. Kyung thinks that maybe even this constant in his life might change, that he’d willingly change it if Jiho asked him to. Ten minutes spent alone in front of the classroom door is enough to ponder beyond the usual surface level appreciation of the turn his life has taken. He thinks about how things had lead up to this moment, thinks of meeting Jiho. Unavoidably, the chain of memories leads to that afternoon he had first caught sight of Jiho with the shorter boy. He doesn’t even properly register it when his thoughts wander, fixated on that one moment. Somehow, he ends up exploring the possibilities he’s never addressed before, thinks that Jiho must like smaller boys, and realizes almost giddily that he’s a shorter boy. The thought makes Kyung’s face flush, suddenly hyper aware of the line he’s crossed once again. Unreasonably he feels that the few people quietly hanging around the classroom door might know what he had been thinking of, leading him to shift uncomfortably and look at the ground in conflicted guilt. They don’t know, no one does, and he could easily pretend the thought had never crossed his mind. Yet Kyung can’t seem to expel the shame even when his rationale is faultless. When the bell rings and the door is opened to let everyone in, Kyung is quickest to reach his seat, looking down the entire time. 

After spending two classes mostly out of it, he’s purified himself of the memory after a good hour of sorting out messy chemical equations in preparation for an upcoming lab that will supposedly require a quick hand at balancing equations. Kyung can’t complain, it’s a good mind-numbing activity for times like this. During their lunch break, he’s sitting at the sun-bleached lunch table the boys had dragged out into their preferred spot, legs swinging absentmindedly. Taeil and Jihoon are sat across him, discussing the chances Jihoon has at getting some girl to give him a chance. It’s light hearted and mostly optimistic daydreaming, but Kyung doesn’t know who she is and can’t find a way to offer his opinion. That’s fine though, because the company is nice anyway, and he likes to listen to their roundabout reasonings. 

Jaehyo and Jiho show up together, Jaehyo holding onto a cardboard tray of cheap cafeteria food. Jiho is empty handed, as he usually is, but doesn’t seem bothered. Jaehyo sits by Jihoon, having overheard the topic and eager to join in, and Jiho naturally settles in by Kyung. When his hand comes up to settle on Kyung’s thigh for a moment as he greets him, Kyung is jostled out of his thoughts and nearly chokes. Taken aback and reminded of what he had been conceptualizing earlier that day, Kyung responds a little too quick, shifting away immediately. The look of hurt on Jiho’s face makes him feel a little sick, he can’t stand the way the older boy’s smile vanishes. He absolutely hates is, makes it his job to fix that even if he does feel awkward. 

“You scared me, I was so caught up in their discussion I didn’t even notice you come by.” Jiho gives a little grin, an indicator of understanding that reassures Kyung even if his nerves are still on edge. 

Jiho doesn’t talk a whole lot, just rests his head on one hand, elbow propped up on the table, listening to the others chatter away. Occasionally he laughs and intervenes to point out some intentionally ridiculous fallacy, to which the others respond by only adding to the incredulous explanation. At some point Kyung slides his bag of chips to Jiho, who pauses from the conversation to smile down at him and give a small nod. They’re supposedly sharing the snack, only Kyung sometimes reaches over to pull nothing from the bag, giving the illusion of eating as much as Jiho. He figures he’s had a sandwich already, and Jiho never eats, so it’s not a big deal. 

Jihoon has run out of details to share from his ongoing pursuits of romance, and Jaehyo has reached his capacity of being teased for the time being, so in the dry spell of their conversation Jiho naturally shifts the topic to himself.

He’s not necessarily the type to talk about his own troubles much, he seems too good natured and disconnected from people to carry many conflicts with him. So, when he does provide some insight to his personal struggles, Kyung listens close, quenching his curiosity. Even though he practically idolizes Jiho, he doesn’t know a whole lot about who the older boy really is. It’s not intentional that Jiho keeps things secret, he just tends to avoid turning the mood sour. 

“I’m so behind on everything due in school lately, I think if my grades drop anymore I might as well drop out.” Everyone takes it lightly, Jaehyo likening it to Yukwon’s having dropped out earlier. Jihoon finds it less funny, insisting it’s nonsense to talk like that, but Jiho only shrugs. “I got caught up working too many extra jobs the past week or two, I guess. I’ve put off so much school stuff.” Hearing that, Kyung feels a little guilty for living life so easy.

Moments like these, he feels like an intruder. His life is so relaxed, so comfortable, while the others all have their own responsibilities. Taeil, Yukwon, Minyuk and Jiho all work, though Jiho and Taeil only work part time when school isn’t interfering. Jaehyo worked full time in the summer in order to compensate for what he wouldn’t be able to do during the school term. Considering their hard work, Kyung feels a little unappreciative, and a little unfitted to their group. 

Jiho stretches his arms behind his head and sighs loudly. “I really want to finish high school, though.” The others get a little quiet, the gravity of it weighing down on them for a minute. Moments like these, Kyung thinks he better think things through more carefully, because he blurts, “You won’t fail, I’ll help you finish everything. Come over to my house or something.” Then again, even if he had thought about it a second time, he’d still say the same thing.

The older boy smiles softly, it’s different than the usual toothy grin he gives when he finds something amusing, and nods hesitantly. Kyung picks up on the uncertainty and has to speak up to reassure both himself and Jiho, “Don’t worry, my mom has book club today and won’t come home until later when my dad gets home from work, we’ll have like two hours.” The bell ringing to indicate lunch ending drones out the endless worries in Kyung’s mind, singles out all that seems to matter lately: Jiho and the shy smile that no one else seems to catch. 

After school Kyung makes sure not to waste too much time lingering by his locker and heads to the back parking lot where he had decided to meet the older boy. As expected, Jiho is there, looking a little out of place now. It’s adorable, in a way, seeing him standing alone and a little tense, too tall for his surroundings almost. Kyung waves, can’t help but feel elated at seeing Jiho break into a smile upon seeing him. 

“You really don’t have to do this if you’re too busy, you know?” Kyung shakes his head, “No, it’s fine, this is important.” There’s a moment's pause, a moment of timid thinking, before Kyung sheepishly adds, “You’re important.” Face dusted with a delicate kiss of pink, Jiho opens his mouth to say something only to close it again, at a loss for words. Kyung can feel his heart racing, feels ecstatic and rebellious and a little dizzy for reasons he doesn’t want to examine too closely. 

Even though he had already surveyed the driveway for his parents’ cars, Kyung makes sure to peek into the house before welcoming Jiho in, instructing he leave his shoes at the door. Once he’s locked the door and gotten rid of his shoes, he feels a little more relaxed and sits down at the couch in the living room. Jiho follows, only he pauses at the door to pull the uniform sweater over his head and discards it over the arm of the couch. He’s quick in loosening his tie and undoing a few buttons at the collar of his button-down. Kyung watches open mouthed the entire time, eyes catching on the neat, defined lines of Jiho’s throat. The older boy doesn’t seem to notice, wordlessly joining Kyung on the couch and pulling his bag closer so he can shuffle through it for some papers. 

For the first hour or so, they work diligently, speaking sparsely between assignments that need finishing. At some points, Jiho leans over to ask for some explanation or guidance. Jiho is a quick learner, picks things up fairly easily, and it’s not hard to imagine him as among the top students had he had better circumstances. With the free time that Kyung has, Jiho probably could have achieved a lot.   
When they’ve finished up a considerable amount of work, Jiho leans back against the couch and stretches himself out. Kyung had somewhere along the way ended up sitting on the floor by the coffee table, but he makes sure to glance up when he hears Jiho sigh as he pulls his arms up over his head and rolls his shoulders. He’s really tall. 

“Let’s eat something and take a break, we can’t finish everything today anyway,” Kyung suggests, already getting up to go to the kitchen. The older boy doesn’t protest, just neatens out his shirt slightly and sits up, running a hand through his messy hair.

“What do you want to eat?” Jiho is trailing behind, rubbing at one side of his face tiredly. “You pick, I don’t really mind what,” he responds, leaning against the kitchen island and smiling in a way where he’s pressing his lips together and puffing out his cheeks. Kyung giggles without catching how ridiculously fond he sounds and pokes the older boy’s cheek. 

“Okay, well I’m not that good at cooking, so there’s your warning.” Smiley as ever, Jiho shrugs carelessly, “Fair warning. At least I’ll die at the hands of someone I actually like.” Already looking through the fridge, Kyung rolls his eyes even though Jiho won’t see it. “I won’t let you die. You might get very ill, but that’s about as tragic as it gets.” He’s found eggs and beef his mother must have prepared last night, takes them and sets them on the counter before shuffling through a pantry. Behind him, Jiho answers, “I’m more than fine with that, it’d just mean I’d get to stay with you longer, you know, until you nurse me back to health.” 

Kyung feels his face heat up, which is absurd, completely unreasonable. But he really likes hearing Jiho say things like that so casually, asserting how much he values Kyung’s company. He could give another sarcastic quip but settles for something else. “I’d take care of you as long as you would need.” Jiho gets quiet after that, and a self-conscious silence falls on them again. Kyung pretends to be busy in cooking, settling noodles in a pot of boiling water and cutting vegetables. When he hears Jiho walk away, he risks a glance over his shoulder. The older boy is collecting his stuff, putting it in his bag silently. Just as Jiho is zipping up the bag, Kyung looks back to the food.

It takes a little more than half an hour to cook and it’s not that great, the broth isn’t as flavorful as it could be, but at the very least the egg and meat distract from it, so Kyung is generous with it when he realizes his food’s shortcomings. Jiho doesn’t seem to mind, eats up without complaint and even pauses to compliment Kyung’s elementary cooking skills. “You’ve been misleading me, you can cook fine.” The former tenseness is dispelled by the meal, and easily they slip back into talking like they always do. 

Their conversations switch from subject to subject breezily, and just like that another half hour passes. Jiho notices first and gets up so suddenly that it scares Kyung. “What’s wrong?” Kyung is half out of his chair too, concern evident on his face. Hurriedly, the black-haired boy moves towards his bag, saying as he goes, “Your parents will be home soon.” The drop in Kyung’s mood is so dramatic it’s almost funny. He’s childishly bitter all of a sudden, silently cursing his parents for coming home, as if the real issue isn’t in their discrimination among his friends. He really wanted to spend more time with Jiho. 

Jiho pulls his shoes on and fully rips the tie from his neck, stuffing it in his bag and then pausing to pull the sweater over his head. Then he’s opening the door, pausing briefly to look back at Kyung. “Thanks for everything, I owe you.” Then he’s gone, and just in time too, because it’s less than ten minutes later that Kyung sees his mom’s car pulling up in the driveway. 

She greets him nonchalantly, going directly to the kitchen to start up the stove and set water boiling. It occurs to Kyung that he’s made a mistake when she glances at the sink before leaving and notices the two bowls set there. “Kyung, did you have a friend over?” He freezes where he’s sitting on the couch, turning slowly to look over his shoulder. 

“No? I used two bowls though, I made the broth too liquid-y and tried draining it.” The lie comes almost naturally, maybe because it’s fueled by his desperation to preserve his friendship with Jiho as long as possible. His mother looks annoyed and sighs, “Alright, maybe clean up after yourself next time. I’d rather you just wait until I come home.” 

Life becomes like that for Kyung. Jiho is integrated into it, just as the rest of his boys are, only it always returns to Jiho. Every thought, every action, seems to revolve around Jiho, and Kyung only becomes aware of that as November begins and the skies turn a little grayer, weather a little colder. They end up meeting often with the excuse of finishing homework, and it does work, they keep one another on task. Yet, Kyung can’t seem to dispel the awkward moments that occasionally overcome them. Regardless of how close they grow, there is always some unidentifiable source of tension. 

 

Now that classes have initiated more fully, Kyung immerses himself in former extracurriculars, primarily spurred to do so because he always has, and he doesn’t want to disappoint. He spends about an hour after class at a math club meeting one afternoon, practicing meticulous calculations with a small group of other members who had reached the level where they could compete. When their allotted time ends, he leaves the room carrying his fairly empty bag and heads off campus the way he usually does- from the back-parking lot. 

The younger boy catches sight of Jiho there, leaning against a fence that’s already been tilted by generations of students doing the same.

“What’re you doing here?” 

Jiho uprights himself and shrugs, giving a dopey smile. “I dunno, just thought I’d wait for you.” It’s really a ridiculous smile, all teeth and his lower lip jutting out just slightly. His face is all softness at moments like this, a face where there’s no possibility of dimples in that chubbiness of his cheeks. It’s not the most traditionally charming face, in senses like that, but Kyung finds it difficult not to love. He can’t help but grin back and relent to what he knows they both want. “We should go get something to eat together.” Jiho’s agreement is no surprise.

By now, Kyung has good knowledge of all the places Jiho and his boys regular. They settle on a good place to eat with little discussion, because Jiho isn’t very picky with food, or good at differentiating in the quality of it, and settles for the first idea Kyung has. 

They’re sharing fries and Jiho is halfway into a story about having hit his head on three different occasions before school. “Wait, wait, why couldn’t you see?” Swallowing down a mouthful of fries, Jiho pauses his story to elaborate what, to him, was a minor detail, “The lightbulbs in my bedroom have been messed for like two weeks.” Then he’s reaching for another fry and taking a break to sip from his orange soda. 

Exasperated by Jiho’s dimwittedness, Kyung glares up at Jiho and sighs, “Have you thought to tell your parents, you know, so they get that fixed?” Jiho looks thoughtful for a second, looking up, still busy chewing. Even the way he eats is adorable, mouth a little too full and lips puckered, making him look like a hamster. He swallows and takes another moment to think before he answers with a light-hearted expression, “Right, that’s because I don’t live with my parents.” Another one of those thoughts comes up, where Kyung feels like an idiot for having better circumstances than the others without realizing it.

“I’m sorry, but also, what do you mean? You never tell me anything.” Superficially, Jiho doesn’t look bothered, but it’s evident that he’s making an effort to look that way. Actively he’s forcing the nonchalance and avoiding eye contact, because something is wrong and he’s been evading the topic. 

Now it’s out in the open, it can’t be ignored longer. Kyung won't let it go, just stares expectantly at Jiho. So, Jiho just sighs heavy before beginning, “My parents kicked me out a while after I turned sixteen. They didn’t like finding out I had a boyfriend.” He whispers the last word, so no one hears. 

For once, it’s not a dirty concept to Kyung, he doesn’t care that that’s how Jiho is. He feels angry and strangled by the intensity of that rage. Jiho notices the changing mood and forces a light chuckle, reaching out to grab at Kyung’s wrist. “It’s fine, it was bound to happen, I suppose.” There’s a pause, then he adds a little quieter, a little more sincerely, “I was really afraid, though.” The bareness in his voice, the vulnerability, makes Kyung’s heart break. The younger hopes that there’s a happier turn, leans forward so that his whispers can be heard too, “Did you live with him, then?” Things only turn more sour when Jiho gives a tiny shake of the head. 

“My boyfriend was a lot older than me, like by four years almost. I was kinda foolish back then. When he found out I needed help, he broke up with me.” Jiho glances up every few moments, suddenly skittish and careful, for which Kyung can’t blame him. A few seconds of glancing around pass before he returns to telling, “I was just a quick fuck for him, ya know? Anyway, after that, I was really scared. I was alone.” Kyung tries not to hang onto the specifics, but it’s hard when he’s never thought about this type of thing in depth. However, his anger undeniably overshadows any other thought. 

Finger’s absentmindedly playing with the straw of his coke, Kyung thinks that the world doesn’t deserve Jiho. He’s too sweet and lovable and gentle to have to be beat up like this. Kyung wants to talk care of Jiho at moments like this, where he sees the youth and weakness in him. But Jiho doesn't need to be babied. All that aside, Jiho is still strong, doesn’t give away the impact his hardships have had on him. Evidently, it had been difficult, but Jiho hadn’t let it stop him, he figured things out. 

“It took a while, but Yukwon was nice about it, his folk’s let me stay around until I figured out where to go. I spent pretty long living in a hostel with a bunch of other guys, but I really wanted to move out, so I worked all I could and moved out in the summer.” Kyung nods slow, briefly wondering if his parents would do the same to him. Probably would. Jiho is really brave being like this, but Kyung thinks it must be something he can’t help. No one would voluntarily make themselves the victim of such mistreatment. He's starting to think a lot of things, thinks about how lucky Jiho is to have a group of friends as accepting as they are, about how everyone should be just as accepting.

“I’m sorry”  
“It’s okay.”

This time, Kyung walks Jiho home. The cats out of the bag, and Jiho assumes Kyung shouldn’t be left with partial information. He might as well know it all, so it ends up being the day Kyung sees where Jiho lives. Still, the younger is unsure of their boundaries and doesn’t go past the start of the alley way that leads to Jiho’s door. He can see it from there, a small grey room built on top of a storage garage of some sort. There are rickety metal stairs leading up to a door painted in chipped brown, and no windows on the visible side. 

The black-haired boy turns to Kyung and graces him with another one of those soft smiles. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Kyung nods wordlessly, still overwhelmed by everything and feeling a little too sad to say anything. This time, he doesn’t hurry to rid Jiho from his view, and instead watches the taller boys back all the way to his door. His figure, smaller in the distance now, fiddles with the door and steps in, the profile of his face seen momentarily before he disappears inside. 

The walk home is full of thinking and too many emotions and when Kyung gets home his mother yells at him for staying out so late but for some reason he doesn’t have the heart to give an excuse, so instead he just goes to his room and cries with his face pressed into the pillows.


	3. Love Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It’s gentle and different to Kyung, new to him by the loose hold, the slight roughness of Jiho’s fingers, the way his own own fits daintily against Jiho’s larger hand._

Beyond the intermittent soft moments that Jiho reveals, he is a sure and firm image of masculinity. Something about that makes Kyung anxious. 

On some occasions, Kyung feels his stomach turn at the sound of Jiho’s voice, low and course, all the more gravelly when he speaks quietly. It’s one of those days, Jiho sat on the curb, holding a bottle of soda in one hand. Kyung is standing by him, Jaehyo leaning on him, which does nothing to break Kyung’s attention from Jiho. The older boy is looking up with narrowed eyes, mouth slightly agape and unsmiling. He’s wearing the ever-present gold chain around his neck, thin with a cross at the end. It looks good, light catching on it the way Kyung’s eyes catch on Jiho’s throat when he swallows. 

“So,” Kyung starts, looking down at the older boy carefully, trying to perceive his mood before cautiously continuing, “I still don't get it, Jiho, what about that boy I saw with you like months ago?” Jiho tenses a little, glares up through short wispy eyelashes and stray stands of black hair. It's an attractive look. 

In recent weeks, more specifically since Jiho’s confession on having moved out from his parents’ home, Kyung has grown more comfortable with Jiho’s differences. It's still an awkward topic, and Kyung feels uneasy thinking about it too long (or in detail) but it's relatively normal to Kyung now. It's just a minor part of his friend, nothing else. 

Jiho sighs, looks up in a way that exposes the slender expanse of his neck more fully. “We're all the same,” Jiho pauses again and shrugs, breaking eye contact to look at the asphalt underfoot instead. 

“It wasn't even a thing, I was just bored and horny and shit, I guess.” 

Kyung wishes it weren't so horribly obvious that his face turns red, and he can't react quick enough to prevent his mind from briefly, just for a second, entertaining lewd thoughts that follow the implications Jiho suggests. 

All the same; Jiho was just being a teenager and Kyung was being a teenager too, curious but definitely not the same. 

Lately, Kyung can’t seem to stop feeling like this. Kyung has gone from spending a lot of time with the entire group to spending a lot of time specifically with Jiho. More often than not, the older boy waits to walk Kyung home, and in return Kyung has been wearing his parents’ patience thin by going everywhere but home on those days that Jiho waits for him after class. He’s built up an elaborate web of lies, providing stories of clubs and teams that he’s barely ever acknowledged in the past. Their trust in his independence grows, and they stay oblivious to the truth. 

Whenever he’s with Jiho, he tends to be bordering on something dangerous. But he can’t help it and can’t do anything but keep denying it because it’s too late to stop himself. One evening he even catches himself thinking that if Jiho were a woman, he’d have fallen in love for sure. Only, that doesn’t make sense- Kyung loves the roughness of Jiho, so his being a woman in said daydream is just a thinly veiled attempt at hiding the truth. 

Winter’s coldness has set in completely, and Kyung finds it a little difficult to wait for Jiho after class but stays put as long as he can because Jiho always waits for him. When the frosty wind biting at his ears and nose gets to be too unbearable, he slips back into the school in search of Jiho. It’s not often that Jiho leaves Kyung waiting for him, but of the times that it has happened, Jiho never explains why. Kyung doesn’t mind, but it does cause him to end up searching the halls for longer than necessary. There’s only a couple rooms with the lights still on, and he makes sure to peek into each one in hopes Jiho is there. 

It doesn’t take too long, eventually he finds Jiho standing at a sink in one of the art classrooms. Even with the biting weather of the season, Jiho is wearing a tee shirt. Kyung looks around slowly at all the paintings left to dry and other various finished works that sit on desks and counters and workspaces. There’s a homey feel to the studio, and everything looks thoroughly used; worn by age, not abuse. The lighting is yellow and unattractive, probably a byproduct of being an underfunded program. 

“I didn’t know you took this class.” Kyung joins the black-haired boy by the sink, noticing now that he’s washing off some paint brushes, splotches of red and purple paint on the back of his hands and forearm. Jiho looks to Kyung, doesn’t seem surprised at his being there, and answers, “It’s a required course.” 

Kyung just watches Jiho’s hands under the running water, cleaning each brush then setting it aside. When he’s done, he dries his hands on an old paint stained rag, the colored streaks of now dry paint still on his arms and parts of his hands. Grabbing his discarded school uniform and shoving all but the blazer in his bag, Jiho shouts a polite goodbye to his teacher before taking Kyung’s wrist to lead him out.

They get off campus in the direction they always do, walking side by side. Jiho talks about some new album he had heard the other day, gesturing at the air as he rushes to express his appreciation of it. The eager enthusiasm is sweet, and when Jiho is so distracted by his excitement to convey the album's impact to Kyung, it's easy for the younger boy to steal a few longer glances. He decides he likes the way Jiho’s face lights up when he's talking about things he loves. 

They've been walking a long time. At some point conversation had died down and they'd been walking in comfortable silence since then. “Jiho, where are we going?” Kyung doesn’t doubt Jiho, follows him without complaint, but he’s still curious. They’ve gotten past their usual locations of wandering, moving out of the inner portions of town. The road they’re at is fairly empty, and Kyung can’t see exactly what there is that they could be going all this way for. Days are shorter lately, and he needs to get home before it gets dark. 

The black-haired boy stops walking and turns to Kyung, “I don’t really know. Thought we could just walk around today, honestly. I can take you home, if you want, though.” Immediately, Kyung is shaking his head and taking hold of Jiho’s hand to tug him forward. 

“No, no it’s fine. I really like being with you, even if we’re doing nothing.” Jiho freezes up again, but this time he doesn’t seem composed enough to move past it. He just stares down at Kyung, lips curling in a tiny smile. Kyung can practically feel the blush spreading across his face and looks down for a moment before returning to looking at the older boy.

“Me too,” Jiho says, face softening with a tiny smile that making Kyung’s stomach flip. The way Jiho looks at him so tenderly and the way Kyung feels staring back frightens him. He can’t bear it, feels the moment too vividly. He’s too aware of Jiho’s wrist held in his hand, so aware that it feels weird to let go now. It’s all too much, so he’s just frowning and then Jiho is looking concerned too and he doesn’t want that, but he can’t bear it. He feels like his heart can’t keep up with what he needs, his thoughts can’t decipher this drowning feeling, and despite the speed at which he feels his heart beating, he thinks he’s lacking oxygen. He's just realized something.

Jiho takes ahold of Kyung’s hands, brows furrowed in confusion. “Kyung, did I do something wrong?” Kyung nods furiously, trying so hard to stop himself from crying, but the tears begin rolling down his cheeks and he’s incapable of stopping it. One of Jiho’s hands rises to swipe at Kyung’s cheek, but the tears are quick to reappear. Between hiccupping and trying to stop crying, he can barely breath, but he forces out the words, because if he doesn’t say something now, the weight of it might crush him entirely, “I think I love you.” He feels horrible. 

Jiho doesn’t smile, still looks incredibly worried and just pulls Kyung towards himself with such force that Kyung thinks he feels his heart jump to his throat. Kyung can’t stop thinking that it’s all the older boy’s fault. He practically suffocates Kyung in his embrace, letting him sob.

Jiho rests his chin on the youngers head, frowning deep and glancing around, because he’s grown to know being paranoid is to be safe. Kyung will learn too, but right now he can cry as long as he wants, Jiho will take care of him. Bitter confessions turning his mouth sour, Kyung clings desperately to the other boy. Neither of them is happy. 

Dread fills Kyung the following morning. It’s not excuse enough to miss school, though his mother does ask if he’s feeling ill. He’s not sick, though he’s running on barely any sleep. After he had confessed to Jiho, he had walked home solemnly and lay in bed for hours, trying to make sense of it all. He can’t even pinpoint the moment he had realized he was feeling for Jiho something beyond friendship. He hadn’t expected himself to say it, had barely registered the thought, let alone understood. But at the time, the thought had struck him so forcefully that in that moment he knew nothing else. And reflecting on it now, he couldn’t find any error in it. Explanations all pointed back to what he had feared: his confession was honest. 

He feels disgusted with himself, washes his hands under scalding hot water for a minute too long, yanks at the knots in his hair angrily, can’t find the energy to sort out his uniform. Every class goes by with being on edge, as he feels himself dozing off but can’t because the never-ending contemplation in his mind keeps him up. He’s afraid to extend his thoughts beyond the self-centered rumination, because adding Jiho to the mix makes things only more confusing. 

Oddly enough, Kyung isn’t really bothered about the lunch break. It's too natural, too familiar, to be tainted by even this dramatic of a conflict. As he has for the past several months, he goes to the usual spot to eat, greeting Jihoon and Taeil with a smile, although it’s a little tired looking. According to typical routine, Jiho and Jaehyo come up a while later, but this time Jiho keeps some distance. His usual touchiness is subdued, but he’s in no way impolite. He gives a big grin to the boys and leaps into conversation as he sits down by Kyung. 

The next half hour or so passes so naturally, full of good natured jokes and familiarity, that Kyung almost forgets about his ongoing inner turmoil. It’s the bell that snatches him away from the temporary bliss. The way Jiho lingers around the table a little longer, even once all the others are walking off towards wherever they are due next, stresses Kyung. He knows what's coming next and knows it’s for the best. That doesn’t make it any easier to face. 

He has to do this, can’t bear running away and letting himself be victim to another night of unresolved conflict. Jiho looks down at him, understands the consent wordlessly provided, and returns to sitting, only now across from Kyung instead of beside him. Pushing all the nervousness aside, Kyung looks directly at Jiho. It distantly occurs to him that he’s felt starved of seeing Jiho, has wanted to look so shamelessly at him. 

The silence makes it hard to breathe, yet strangely enough, there is no tension in the air. Between the two of them it feels like there is nothing but sincerity and injury and shared foreboding. 

“Did you mean it?” Kyung inhales slowly, hears his own words from the day before echo against his skull and pound at delicate nerves. 

“I don’t know.”  
“That’s okay.”

Kyung feels grateful for the older boy’s understanding. He wishes he could understand too. For now, they can settle for this blindness, this not knowing. Kyung can’t really tell what Jiho thinks, though he hopes it’s something more concrete. In his own phase of senselessness perhaps Jiho can sort out a conclusion.

When the silence drags on too long, Kyung accepts that he needs to elaborate. Jiho will give him all the time in the world to think, to feel comfortable, but Kyung doesn’t have all the time in the world to share with Jiho. Maybe that’s what makes this difficult. 

“I don’t know if I love you. But we’re not friends.” Jiho nods slowly, picks up the implications easily. He leans forward to rest his head on his hands and looks up through the stray strands of hair that fall over his forehead and in his eyes. “Do you want to be friends?” Kyung drops his gaze and like a child caught in trouble, shakes his head. He can’t deny himself this, wishes he would. 

“Okay.”  
Jiho sits up slightly and reaches across the table to take Kyung’s hand, interlaces their fingers delicately. It’s gentle and different to Kyung, new to him by the loose hold, the slight roughness of Jiho’s fingers, the way his own own fits daintily against Jiho’s larger hand. Kyung stares at their hands, feels his heart stutter, but can’t form any comprehensible thought to express what he feels. He’s slowed down, like his blood is turned glutinous and drags slow across his veins.

“Is this okay?”

Kyung won’t dare speak just yet, ends up just forcing himself to look up at Jiho. Making eye contact with Jiho, he decides something. He’s petrified, getting choked up on the self-loathing and he’s not brave enough and it’s all so unknown and frightening- but he trusts Jiho. He thinks he might give himself wholly to Jiho, he wants this so bad. So, he nods his head, lets their hands stay that way a minute longer. 

Jiho smiles and even though it’s a little forced, Kyung feels a weight lift off his chest. He can pretend to be full of courage if Jiho wants him to. So, he will be, he’ll try his hardest to. 

Detangling their fingers, Jiho gets up and shoves his hands in his pockets, looking up idly. “I didn’t think it’d be like this,” the older boy says, maintaining his gaze on the clouds above. He keeps talking, not looking back at Kyung, “I really didn’t think you were like that.” Kyung didn’t think so either. He ignores the comment and sounds afraid when he asks, “Look at me, Jiho.” The younger feels desperate to see Jiho’s face now, feels lost without it. Jiho refuses, just keeps staring up for a while longer and then he’s walking away with a slight shrug. “It’s selfish, but I’m glad you’re like this,” is all the older says as he heads in direction of the class he’s already half missed. 

_Like this_. He wishes he weren’t, but then wishes he is. Kyung thinks it would be insufferable to not be with Jiho. Besides that, he can’t ignore the challenges that await them, the thought that being _like this_ is wrong. He should feel dirty and vile, and maybe he does feel that way, but he can’t unlearn the way he wants to be with Jiho. Belatedly he’ll learn the consequences, later he’ll beg desperately to go back. Distantly in his mind he knows he has just begun digging his grave, one he’ll be burdened with deepening for too long while simultaneously not long enough. 

 

In the winter, the sun comes up slow and always hidden by round, cotton looking clouds. Kyung stays wrapped in his blankets, watching the light outside his window stay unchanged as time crawls by. There’s always a lot to think about these days. 

Since their having spoken alone that afternoon, not much has changed between Kyung and Jiho. What’s worse is that Kyung isn’t entirely sure if he wants change. Jiho is obvious in his carefulness, purposely keeping himself in check of his limits as not to rush the younger. In part, that’s exactly what Kyung needs. He’s still trying to figure things out, trying to accept that he’s different. But it's equally as frustrating to not be able to go beyond this intermediate phase. 

School is less than one week from closing for the week-long break before December comes. The upcoming time off has the boys talking about what they’ll spend it doing. Kyung doesn’t offer much input, mostly because he knows he’s not as exciting as them and doesn’t have any good recommendations. Surely half the things they want to do won’t actually happen, considering most of them will work through break, making them highly unavailable.

The cautious distance that Jiho has instilled between himself and Kyung makes the younger fear that they won’t see one another much over break. It actually annoys Kyung. He wants Jiho to go back to the casual touchiness, when his arm would hang across Kyung’s shoulders, or his hand patting at Kyung’s thigh when something particularly funny happened, or him grabbing at Kyung’s arm for attention. To make things further unbearable, Kyung has to witness Jiho being that way with the others. The black-haired boy still behaves his usual self with everyone but Kyung, all because he’s being overly careful. 

“Are you guys cool with ditching Friday?” 

Kyung is quick to shake his head, and Taeil gives an exaggerated sigh, though his false annoyance isn’t very convincing. Considering the response, Jihoon brings up an alternate plan, “Let’s just grab food after and catch a movie or something.” It’s simple and easy to sort out, so no one objects to it. Jaehyo volunteers to relay the plans to Yukwon and Minhyuk later on. It doesn’t take long to sort out the details, everyone concludes that they’ll meet at Jaehyo’s house to get picked up, and that Yukwon and Minhyuk can take them to a drive-in after. Jiho leans towards Kyung, “I’ll walk you?” The younger smiles and nods, feeling reassured in where they stand just by that small offer. 

Friday comes around, and Kyung has to tell his mother four separate times that he’s going out for a movie with friends because she insists on reaffirming the fact repeatedly. He’s careful to hide his annoyance, doesn’t want her to grow suspicious and think he’s hiding anything. The number of times being asked would be higher, but he unintentionally avoids her altogether by spending much of his time choosing something to wear. After changing through four different shirts, he just pulls on a black sweater with sleeves a little too long. Extra finicky about details, he searches his entire room for a belt, finally finds one under his bed, and then spends another fifteen minutes trying to decide if a brown belt with blue jeans is okay. 

He’s at the door, ready to leave, when his mother asks the fifth time, “Kyung, who are you going with?” He explains it again to her, avoiding mention of specific names in case she contacts their parents later. He’s putting on his second shoe when she speaks again, tone supposedly teasing, but it sounds mean to Kyung, “Are you sure you’re not going out with a girl?” The question has Kyung caught off guard, and he can’t help but think of Jiho. His face goes just faintly red, giving his mother the impression that there really is a girl, but he insists there isn’t. She doesn’t believe him, but Kyung refuses to give in, so she ends up letting him go. “Okay sweetheart, whatever you say. Be good and don’t stay out too late.” 

Arriving at the street corner a little out of breath, Kyung apologizes profusely for making Jiho wait. Although he does mention his mother having been the reason for his lateness, he excludes the specifics of what she had been asking. Jiho doesn’t seem to mind, just shrugs and says it’s not a big deal. 

They walk to Jaehyo’s house with what Kyung thinks is too much space between them. It practically saves his entire mood when they settle for sitting in Yukwon’s car this time, letting Jihoon go in Minhyuk’s truck. When Jaehyo calls shotgun, Kyung doesn’t even pretend to be bothered by it, and manipulates their seating so that he’s sat next in between Jiho and Taeil. When Taeil opens the door to sit, Kyung acts as if it’s necessary to make even more space, and scoots close as he reasonably can to Jiho. To his disappointment, Jiho doesn’t really respond to the closeness, and he himself is too shy to go any further in trying to initiate anything. It feels like they’ll never breach this phase of whatever they are. 

They have dinner in some homey little Chinese takeout place, and Jiho sits by Kyung, as usual. Sky a darkening gray and blue, the food gets served to them hot and delicious. Kyung is concentrated more on eating than talking. It surprises him that Jaehyo and Yukwon are so talkative even while busy stuffing their mouths full of food, but he pays no attention. The food is good and he likes the company. Really likes the boy sitting next to him.

There’s a little tap at his shoulder, and Kyung turns slowly towards Jiho, eyebrows raised. “Try this,” the older boy holds out his chopsticks and looks expectant. Dumbfounded, Kyung wordlessly takes the queue and opens his mouth. Jiho looks so pleased with himself as Kyung chews, Kyung can’t help but want to cover his face again because the adoring way Jiho looks at him is too much for him to bear. Unable to contain a grin, he just says, “It’s really good Jiho.” Maybe it’s the way that Jiho is looking at him that gives him the confidence to lean in and then whisper, “Mostly because you fed it to me. Love the attention, ya know?” Then he’s giggling because it’s cheesy and Jiho looks caught off guard. The other boys turn their attention towards the two, but they just look as if left out of some joke, and quickly go back to conversing. 

Sun dipping under the horizon and tinting everything a lovely purple, the boys get back into their respective rides, full and contented. Kyung stares at Jiho extra-long when they stand outside waiting for Yukwon to bring the car around. The purple shadows that settle over Jiho’s face make him look so pretty, Kyung thinks. Purple drapes over his cheek bones and across the angles of his neck. So pretty, Kyung thinks again.  
The younger boy sits up close to Jiho again, this time not so much with a motive, just because he likes the closeness even if Jiho isn’t addressing it. 

It’s fully dark when they drive up to pay for the movie, twenty-five cents that they scramble to find, because no one’s sure they have a quarter on them. Yukwon leans out the window once they’ve paid, gesturing for Minhyuk to follow their car so they end up close. Kyung doesn’t see the point, because Yukwon gets out and pulls Jaehyo along with him, saying he’d rather go down to see the movie closer. Kyung knows it’s mostly because Yukwon and Jaehyo came more to mess around than they did to watch any movie. Before the two leave, Taeil leans forward to ask, “Hey, give me the keys then, and I’ll sit upfront, better seeing that way.” Yukwon doesn’t protest it. Just tosses his keys back and then the two are out and headed for the snack booth as if they hadn’t just eaten entire meals. 

There’s an abundance of space in the car now, but Kyung and Jiho stay cramped up in the corner without really realizing it. “You won’t really see shit from there, one of you come up front or something-” Taeil stops talking when he looks over his shoulder at the two. Kyung doesn’t notice it, but there’s a long second of staring that Jiho and Taeil exchange, and then Taeil just sighs. “You know what, I think I wanna go bother Minhyuk and Jihoon for a minute.” Taeil looks back at Jiho for a second again, rolls his eyes, then tosses the keys on the dash before getting out. 

“Kyungie, let’s sit in the front then.” Jiho nudges Kyung up, and he doesn’t protest, just follows with a small “yeah, right.” The distance that comes up between them again bothers him, but he buries the concern in watching the movie. Kyung doesn’t question why T never comes back, assumes the pair sitting in the truck were more exciting company. 

They’re getting towards the end of the movie, it’s some comedy with a lot of hard to watch slapstick humor, when Jiho leans halfway towards Kyung. The younger is about to look over, but he freezes up when he feels Jiho’s hand find his. He feels too warm, doesn’t know how to respond, so he keeps on staring forward. Jiho isn’t taking hints today, it seems, because he just intertwines their fingers and turns back to the movie. 

Kyung looks down at their hands, Jiho holding on a lot firmer than that first day, confident and reassuring. Suddenly he’s giddy, laughing and softly hitting his head against the dashboard. He just rests his forehead there, giggling and smiling so wide his eyes crease at the corners. 

“Kyung.” 

Kyung refuses to look up, he knows his face must be blushing so bad right now.

“Kyungie.”

He thinks his heart might burst right now, and caught up in the high of it, forgets any apprehension from before. He doesn’t care what anyone has to say, doesn’t care how his mom and dad feel, doesn’t care about his classmates, about his old friends. In the moment, all he wants to know is Jiho. 

He finally looks up to Jiho, can’t keep the grin off his face. He’s glad Jiho looks happy too, he looks so cute when he’s happy. He doesn’t catch the ending of the movie, doesn’t really care anyway. 

Taeil knocks against the window on Jiho’s side, and Kyung pulls their hands apart so fast. They both pretend it hadn’t happened and get back in the back so Jaehyo and Yukwon can take their spots. The pair are bickering when they get in, but it’s obvious Yukwon’s just trying to get a reaction from Jaehyo, so Jiho laughs. Kyung doesn’t really care, just presses up a little too close to Jiho, suddenly tired. He misses it when Taeil leans forward to look at Jiho, misses the knowing stare T gives, and then the little approving smile. 

Kyung is half asleep when they drop him off at the corner, but he refuses getting walked back because he doesn’t want his parents to know who he’s really been out with. The walk back, he sobers up from the joy of it all. So, when he opens the door and gets inside, his siblings barely glance at him, and his mother only asks once how it was. He waits until he’s in his room to gush about Jiho again.

Though he’s not sure about what exactly he and Jiho are, he feels awfully like a little kid with a crush. He buries his face in his pillow thinking about Jiho, heart light. The excitement is too much, and he stays up a while too long just thinking about all the aspects of Jiho he loves. This wasn’t the type of excitement he had spent all that time craving, but it’s better in a multitude of ways, so he doesn’t complain. 

 

A majority of break goes by without meeting Jiho. Jaehyo, Jihoon and Kyung meet up often, and some days Taeil can come too. On the days that Taeil comes, things get a little more reckless, and the chaos is only worsened when Yukwon shows up to mercilessly tease Jaehyo. Jiho is always busy, Kyung thinks. Although he has fun with the others, he misses Jiho a lot and can’t help but wish the older boy were able to come with them more often.

Another topic of concern occurs to Kyung maybe three days into break. It hits him suddenly that Yukwon has been meeting with them more frequently as time passes. At first, he tries to rationalize it, assuming Yukwon’s just taking time off this break. But then Minhyuk ends up dropping by too frequently, and it doesn’t make sense. Yukwon works at his father’s store, so he could surely negotiate time off, but Minhyuk? To make things stranger, he often catches the two mumbling things or going off on their own to discuss things very gravely before returning happy as ever. Kyung tries to connect the dots, but there’s too much information missing, so he eventually lets it go. 

It’s Thursday when he finally gets to see Jiho again, and he’s practically buzzing with excitement when Taeil tells him Jiho is going with them to see some guys race cars a little ways out of their town. None of them race, but they like to watch, so it’s often they go. Kyung has never been, and he hasn’t told the others yet. He figures he’ll just let them drag him along, sure they won’t take him anywhere unsafe. 

Grabbing a yellow fleece jacket, he rushes out the door, thankful that only his sister is in the living room and not his mother or father. He sees Minhyuk’s truck at the end of the street and gets in quick, practically pushing Taeil to make space. He’s so excited to see Jiho.

To his dismay, when they get to the makeshift track, there’s a multitude of people who’ve shown up, but Jiho hasn’t. Kyung spends too much time staring out the window, desperately searching for Yukwon’s car to pull up. Taeil nudges Kyung with his elbow and laughs, “Eager to see Jiho? You two are cute.” It shuts Kyung up good, he didn’t realize anyone else knew. 

His mouth gapes open for a minute, searching for some response. All he can do is echo Taeil, “Cute?” 

Minhyuk laughs, leaning back against his seat. “Them two? I thought it was jokes when you bunch were saying Jiho got a new boy.” Taeil shakes his head, but he’s laughing, and is quick to clarify, “No, no. It was jokes at first. But you got to know, now they’re stupid for one another.”

Minhyuk gives Kyung a long stare and tuts. “A good kid like Kyung shouldn’t get caught up with a real idiot like Jiho.” The two laugh as if they hadn’t just flipped Kyung’s world over. Indignantly he interrupts them with a small “hey”. They still seem on the verge of laughing when he continues, “Does everyone know?” It’s an accident to even try asking, because Taeil just takes it as a victory and grinning to Minhyuk says, “See, they are a thing.” Minhyuk must notice Kyung’s discomfort, because he just waves Taeil off and answers honestly, “No, the other three are too clueless. They won’t know ‘less you tell them.” 

Reassured, Kyung goes back to looking for Yukwon’s car. Bored of the topic, Taeil and Minhyuk are talking about something else when Yukwon’s car finally comes into sight. Kyung is practically hanging out of the window when Yukwon parks and he sees Jiho get out of the passenger side. He looks good, Kyung thinks, wearing his leather jacket over a loose tee, jeans fitted nicely around his hips. 

“Baby,” Jiho’s voice comes, quiet but surely that, and Kyung wants to hear it again and again. He loves the pet name but doesn’t point it out in fear that Jiho will think it’s too much and stop using it. Kyung sticks his arms out to let Jiho hug him, then he’s fiddling with the door to get out quick as possible. Less than a minute with Jiho and he already feels like it’s going to be a good day. 

There’s a little while before things start, so everyone’s sitting around talking about cars. Kyung doesn’t understand any of it and feels bored quickly. Tugging at Jiho’s sleeve for attention is all he’s left to do. Thankfully it doesn’t take long for Jiho to give him the attention he craves.

“What’s wrong?” Kyung leans forward and looks up at Jiho, intentionally pouting just slightly. 

“I don’t get any of this,” Kyung tells, glancing at the others for a moment. 

“Oh, right. You’ve seen a race before though, right?” Kyung shakes his head. “No, remember, Jiho. I was a huge nerd that you practically plucked right out of a good Christian home, I don’t know anything at all.” 

Jiho laughs, he’s kind of easy to amuse, and leans towards Kyung. “Right, you don’t know anything.” In the short pause Jiho leaves, Kyung hums his confirmation. “Don’t worry, I can teach you a lot of things, babe.” Kyung practically chokes on air, the sarcastic wit suddenly yanked right out of him. “Oh... okay,” he responds dumbly, then leans back, stunned into silence.

Jiho grins good naturedly, throws an arm around Kyung and pulls him close again. “Don’t worry, Kyung. There’s not much to get, it’s just racing.” Kyung nods quickly, glad they’re moving on from his former reaction. He’s even more relieved when the cars line up for a race and everyone moves to get a better look. Jiho’s arm stays around Kyung’s shoulder, though everyone must think it’s the same as when Jiho lazily leans against any of the other boys.

Everyone’s fully immersed in watching, except when Kyung glances towards the others standing around him, he notices Yukwon and Minhyuk missing. He looks behind himself, sees them standing a little further back, discussing lowly again. Something about it rubs him the wrong way, but it doesn’t make sense why, so he brushes it off and returns to watching the track.

When someone wins, there’s some money passed around and a long sigh from Jaehyo who pulls out his wallet. Jiho finds it funny, probably because he’s not part of the betting and it’s always more fun just to watch. 

When everyone’s getting back to be dropped off, Kyung intercepts Jihoon before he gets to Yukwon’s car and convinces him into switching spots. Kyung glances back, catches Minhyuk and Taeil snickering, surely having caught onto why Kyung switched rides. He just grins back and shrugs.

Days without Jiho are relatively uneventful. The tail end of break passes by with everyone busy with their families, and before they know it, it’s already December.


	4. You and the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Don’t worry, kid. We support you and Jiho, no one’s gonna hurt you over it.”_  
>  Kyung thinks he could cry.

Cold weather brings with it somber moods, it seems. Yukwon and Minhyuk are around a lot less often during school hours, so there’s less frequent ditching. And it’s for the better, Taeil ends up on the verge of being held back from graduating in the spring. Jihoon doesn’t get the girl he’d been pining after, she happened to start dating some boy over the break, and they seem plenty happy. Jaehyo gets preoccupied in working another job when his family hits a rough patch, only to have him failing his math class. 

Kyung isn’t too sure how Jiho is doing, but the two of them seem relatively okay. He’s grateful for that, and when the thought comes to him during lunch, he leans his cheek on Jiho ’s shoulder, a little sad, a little happy. It’s weird.

They don’t get a lot of time together as a full group anymore. Everyone’s busy, and with Christmas season at its peak, there’s plenty of extra work and promotions up for grabs that have the boys busy. So, when everyone’s hanging around the parking lot one evening after school ends, it’s pleasant, even if Yukwon and Minhyuk aren’t around. 

Kyung waits for his mother to pick him up that afternoon, because she says she’s nearby picking up his sister anyway, and he can’t find a way to say no. Honestly, he’d much rather walk home with Jiho, but there’s no way he can tell his mother that. So, he waits, and everyone hangs around because they have time to kill. 

Jiho is a little on edge at first after hearing Kyung’s mother will come by. Kyung hasn’t directly told Jiho about how his parents feel about his being different, but Jiho figures they don’t like it. He can put two and two together, and considering they already dislike Jiho just for being from the beat-up side of town is enough to indicate their narrow mindedness. Beyond that, Jiho is jumpy around parents in general, only really feels comfortable around Yukwon’s family or Jihoon’s. 

After about half an hour passes, Jiho loosens up, talks to Kyung how he always does. 

“Fine, you’ve read more books than I have,” Jiho is saying when Kyung catches sight of his mother’s car. When he tenses up, Jiho follows his gaze and quiets down suddenly, speaking up only to say, “Right. Okay, see you, take care.” Kyung distantly feels Jiho pat his shoulder before walking towards the other boys who stand a bit away.

As soon as Kyung has fastened his seatbelt his mother is quizzing him, “Who was that greasy looking boy?” Kyung shivers at the way she drives slow, watching Jiho and the others from the corner of her eyes. 

“Woo Jiho, He was waiting for his ride too.” She doesn’t believe it fully, Kyung can tell by the way she stares ahead wordlessly for a moment. “You keep a distance from him. You know boys like him, they have a different type of raising.” Kyung nods obediently, mumbles a “Yeah, sorry.” But in all honesty, he feels angry. All he can do to contain it is grip the edge of the seat with whitened knuckles, hearing his mother’s voice on repeat in his head. Who was that greasy looking boy? If only his mother knew. 

Kyung does his best to contain his moodiness, and by dinner, he’s gotten over it for the most part. It’s when his mother brings it up again that he nearly drops his fork and shoots a glare at her from where he sits. 

“Kyung met a new friend today,” she says, referring to him in an already demeaning tone. He knows Jiho is being mocked, can sense it in the way her voice drips niceness. “Our Kyung is such a good kid, making friends with even the boys from the unfortunate side of town.” She smiles saccharine sweet, looking towards Kyung with a type of belittling look that makes him boil. 

His father only nods and puts his fork down to say, “He should focus on his studies, no use in picking up every charity case.” Kyung hates the comment, but his mother seems very pleased as she responds, “That’s right. They’re hopeless anyway, no use pitying those type of people.” Kyung’s brother is busy staring down at his food, obviously avoiding attention, but Kyung is able to meet his sister’s gaze, and her sympathetic frown soothes some of the anger in him.  
The rest of dinner he refuses to say anything unless he absolutely has to, and even then, his responses are curt and to the point. His siblings seem to pick up on the passive aggressive tone he’s taken, but they know better than to point it out. When he’s finished his plate and everyone seems just as done eating, he gets excused and immediately goes to his room, closing the door.

No one bothers him, and for an hour he busies himself in homework. He’s just getting to starting annotating some obscure poem when he hears an almost inaudible tap at the window. He pulls the curtains open quick, accustomed to it being one of the boys, either Yukwon or Taeil, at the window. It’s getting late, so he’s already bewildered by the tapping, but to see Jiho meekly peering in from the window is a whole other type of shock. Kyung scrambles at the lock, trying his best to be quiet as he slides open the window and pulls Jiho in, no questions asked. 

It’s only until Jiho is sitting on the floor by his window that Kyung asks him why he’s here. 

“What’re you doing here? It’s so late, we can’t be going out to do anything at this time,” He rambles as he slides the window shut again, leaving it unlocked and pulling the curtains into place less neatly. Jiho struggles with his shoes as he answers, “I was worried about you, after your mom saw me.” He stops speaking for a minute, finally getting rid of his remaining shoe, then adds, “Plus, I missed you.” Kyung can’t really be upset about that.

“You’re so stupid,” Kyung scolds, though it’s hard to contain his fondness. He sits down too, leaning against Jiho and resting his head on the black-haired boy’s shoulder. “I missed you too.”

Kyung forgets his homework completely. Jiho moves so that he can pull Kyung down and rest the younger’s head in his lap. Kyung could fall asleep there, with Jiho ’s fingers carding through his hair and his voice lowly rambling about some book he’s read that he had wanted to tell Kyung about earlier. At some point, he really does start dozing off.

“Kyungie, you need to sleep. I’m going to go home.” Jiho ’s voice is so attractive when its deep and clouded by tiredness, Kyung thinks. He wants to ask Jiho to just stay, thinks it’d be nice if they could just curl up under his covers and it’d be like their own little secret. But he guesses it’s a bit much, and that he’s delusional from tiredness. He and Jiho haven’t even kissed before, asking him to stay would be pushing their limits. So instead he just sits up a little and cups Jiho ’s cheek in his hand and smiles contentedly. 

“I don’t really know what we are, but I really like you, Jiho .” Jiho smiles at him, that same soft smile that Kyung loves so much, and places a soft kiss on Kyung’s forehead. “Okay, loser. Go sleep.” Kyung giggles and turns to hug Jiho the best he can in the position they’re sitting, then lets Jiho get up and leave. 

Just barely remembering to lock the window after, Kyung doesn’t bother even brushing his teeth and just blindly climbs into bed, full of warmth and happiness, even in that cold winter season. 

 

Kyung is always a little early to school, it’s all he has left of his old life. When Jiho interrupts that too, Kyung only rolls his eyes and walks over, teasing, “You’re actually on time for school?” The older boy looks over and shrugs, “Thought I’d take up your nerd ass habits.” 

Jiho doesn’t stop walking, just starts talking and expects Kyung to follow, so he does. They’re not going anywhere specific, Kyung can tell by the leisurely pace, just walking around campus. Still, something’s off, Jiho didn’t just miss some sleep so he could walk. 

It takes a while, but Jiho finally gets to the point, “So, last night you were saying.” Kyung already feels a little dread at those words. He nervously nods, wringing his hands as if he has any clue specifically why he’s anxious. “You don’t know what we are, and I thought, I might have an idea of what we are, but I’m not too sure either.” Kyung should feel relieved now that the older boy’s concern is out and in the open, but he’s still stressed. Maybe it’s just that he’s not used to this. Worst of all, he can’t tell what outcome he wants.  
High-strung and restless, Kyung interrupts impatiently, “So, what are we?” 

Jiho looks at him for a moment, looks timid and uncertain. Sometimes Kyung forgets that Jiho has it hard too, that the older boy doesn’t know everything, isn’t entirely fearless. Moments like this, with Jiho ’s face bare of any reservations and his emotions palpable, Kyung remembers that Jiho is just a kid too. 

“I think we’re boyfriends? We’re dating, right?” 

Kyung thinks about it, fidgets some more with the hem of his sweater. He’s not sure how comfortable he is with it, but he thinks he’s made some progress over the last few months, considering the word doesn’t have him wanting to vomit. With that considered, he just nods very slowly, decides to trust Jiho again, and take this risk. 

“Yeah, I guess so. Boyfriends.” 

The word doesn’t sound so bad when he tests it out, and it brings a hesitant little smile to Jiho ’s lips, so Kyung decides he’ll learn to like it. He thinks this is a good moment to hold hands, but he doesn’t because they’re at school and that would be dangerous. Instead he settles for stepping a little closer so their arms brush and he can lean his head against Jiho for a split second. 

And like that, things are good for a while. Kyung gets into fights with his mother some nights, but his father intervenes at some point, saying Kyung has every right to be involved in after school activities as his brother and sister do. He’s glad no one asks for the specifics, thankful that they believe he really is part of all the clubs he says he is. He’s even more thankful that his siblings really are involved in so many after school things, so that days when his mother and father are out, so are they. Then he can easily bring Jiho home, share an hour of secret homework-doing and music-listening. 

“ Jiho , I like that song, play it again,” Kyung says, pointing lazily at the cassette that’s spinning on towards another track. Jiho obliges, groaning as he gets up, “Right, right. You’re so demanding.” But he looks happy, toothy grin giving away any visage of annoyance. Jiho likes it when Kyung likes the music he has to share. 

Kyung watches Jiho fiddle with the cassette player, hears the little clicks and the sound of the tape gliding back. Even from this angle, with Kyung lying on the carpet, he thinks Jiho looks handsome. There’s another click and the track starts again. 

“Okay, happy now?” Kyung nods, points out his chin and beams at Jiho. The older boy just rolls his eyes and playfully shoves Kyung’s shoulder before lying down beside him, chin propped up by one hand so the other can reach out and tug at a lock of Kyung’s hair. 

“We haven’t gotten anything done at all, Kyung.” Kyung doesn’t really mind, says so out loud, “That’s fine.” Jiho doesn’t argue, just starts sitting up.

“Hey, where are you going?” A little alarmed, Kyung pushes himself up too, staring at Jiho open mouthed. Jiho laughs, pushes his too long hair out of his face with one hand and reassures, “Nowhere, stupid.”

Kyung sits up fully, watching Jiho with a frown. “Promise?”  
Jiho ’s drops the teasing lilt to his tone and answers sincerely, “Promise.” 

Kyung can’t feel relieved for some reason, something makes him feel like that promise will only cause him trouble. There’s something he distantly is aware of bugging him, like there’s an impending downfall awaiting them. But it’s so far away and too difficult to comprehend, that investigating it seems less preferable to just embracing Jiho right now. Uninterested in the excessive stress, he abandons the worries, pushes them far into the back of his mind and crawls towards where Jiho is sat up against the couch’s side and crosses another limit to climb into Jiho ’s lap. 

Jiho looks a little surprised, mouth agape for a moment before his expression turns to a pleased grin, and when his hands come up to Kyung’s hips to hold him, it feels natural. Kyung thinks that crossing limits is fun now, it’s his favorite type of exciting. 

The thing is, it’s entirely innocent. Kyung just leans forward to rest his cheek on Jiho ’s chest, can hear a faint heartbeat there that makes him think maybe there’s nothing wrong with this. When he pulls away, Jiho is looking at him so fondly, it makes his chest ache, as if it might burst, but in a good way this time. 

Their noses are almost touching, that’s how close they are. Kyung could count every single one of Jiho ’s eyelashes, and he would, if he had the time. He could get caught up in it so easily. 

Jiho ’s smile drops from his lips, and there’s some uncertainty evident in his expression. Kyung wants to ask what’s wrong, wonders if Jiho doesn’t like this, doesn’t like him. But he’s too afraid and keeps searching Jiho ’s face for some type of answer. 

The entire mood seems to have changed. The light-hearted tone has fizzled out, and there’s more weight to the house’s silent emptiness now. Yet, the older boy’s voice is so faint a whisper that even amidst a soundless house, it can barely be heard: “Can I kiss you?” 

The words catch in Kyung’s throat, and his mind is sent reeling as he tries to decide quickly what he wants. It’s undeniable, he wants Jiho— wants to be with him. But there’s a part of him that’s still afraid, still can’t accept this no matter how far they’ve come, still knows they’re too different from the rest of their world for this to ever last. All the logical reasoning urges him to say no, to end it now. He takes a shaky breath, tries to accept the truth, but it’s so hard with Jiho so close and tangible and right there, reciprocating all his feelings and giving so much more. So, despite it all, Kyung just nods numbly. 

He closes his eyes, lets Jiho guide him, fingers subconsciously weaving through the older boy’s hair and gripping the shorter strands at his neck. It’s short and sweet and good for a first, has Kyung breathless and shaken when they pull apart. Jiho gives a breathy little laugh, and they stay like that, smiling and foreheads pressed together until Jiho gets up to leave before Kyung’s family start getting home. 

For a minute, compared to the vastness of everything else, Kyung thinks he’s really happy. How can this be wrong, how can Jiho be wrong, when being with him makes Kyung feel so complete? In that brief moment, there’s nothing but a naive bliss and temporary peace that blinds the unaware from their blessings. 

Their downfall comes soon after. The whole of it is a slowly played tragedy, driven by their own choices, making it all the more painful. Kyung often thinks that maybe if he had been more liberal in appreciating every second of time spent those few euphoric months, it wouldn’t hurt so much when he lost it. 

They’re young boys, rowdy and full of energy and it’s needless to say that as they cross these boundaries one by one, it gets harder to go back, it gets increasingly more difficult to stop, to withhold affection and desire. The restrictions of unaccepting family and busy lives just adds to their inability to express what they feel, so it’s only a matter of time before they begin to fray whatever false sanctuary they had built at school. 

Christmas holiday is very soon, and Kyung knows Jiho will disappear from his life for their time off because of all the extra jobs he’s taken. They try to spend time together in the present to make up for that, but it’s hard. They’re a year apart, so they never share classes, and Kyung can only go out so often without his parents questioning him, and his house is only vacant once a week. To try and find some other time together, Kyung suggests they switch their study sessions to Jiho ’s home, but Jiho refuses. 

“No, my house is kinda shitty, it’ll just depress you,” he laughs, only half joking. Kyung doesn’t push it, just whines for the sake of being cute. He’s caught himself doing that a lot lately, seeking out Jiho’s adoring attention and the lovey tone Jiho switches to on occasion.

Not being able to go to Jiho’s house is expected. Jiho is like that. He’s incredibly humble and doesn’t have much anyway, but there are some things he maintains as secret because they’re too burdensome. He doesn’t let Kyung enter his home, ever, and refuses to tell anyone what store he’s been working at for the past month in pursuit of holiday bonuses. When Kyung asks about it again, Jiho just cites the ugly uniforms as reason why Kyung shouldn’t know where he’s working in whatever little free time he has left. 

The only time they have together is essentially the time they share with the rest of the boys. And sat there at their usual lunch table, Kyung and Jiho refrain from touching one another, because they’re a mostly contained secret. It gets tiresome, and it’s obvious that Jiho doesn’t care if they know, he’s just giving Kyung time to grow comfortable. The boys constantly joke about Jiho ’s love life when there’s no one around to judge them, teasing at him. It makes Kyung laugh too, partly because a majority of them are left out on the truth, but mostly because the casual joking makes him feel normal. 

The day of their weekly secret study sessions, when Kyung’s mother is out at her book club and his siblings busy with clubs, Kyung nudges Jiho at the table during lunch. “You can’t come over today, my mom’s skipping book club because my sister’s introducing her boyfriend to the family today. She wants to cook something nice, I guess.” 

Jiho raises an eyebrow. “Introducing to the family?” Kyung nods, taking a bite of his food and chewing slowly. It’s obvious Jiho is getting at something, Kyung just isn’t sure what. 

“When are you going to introduce your girlfriend to the family,” Jiho inquires, glancing at the boys to insinuate that they’re the family he’s talking about. Kyung laughs and shoves Jiho, quietly thankful Jiho was careful not to out him without consent. 

The others jump on the bait instantly, all but Taeil excitedly trying to get Kyung to share the details. He laughs with them, stubbornly withholding the name of this mystery girlfriend. Taeil pretends to be involved, but it’s obvious he’s not as eager to decipher the secret, considering he knows Kyung’s girlfriend is nonexistent. 

Later that day when Jiho stops at the curb with Kyung where they usually part ways, Kyung takes hold of Jiho ’s arm to stop him from leaving. Jiho looks down at him with a quizzical stare, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and confusion.

“You said about letting your family know-” Kyung pauses, a little breath taken by the serious expression that makes Jiho look dangerously handsome. He gets past it, continues anyway, “I guess you can introduce me to them, as your boyfriend, I mean.” He feels oddly shy about it, getting flustered at the way it sounds. But the way Jiho ’s lips turn at the corners and the way his expression softens dramatically has Kyung reassured. He thinks about how tomorrow will go the entire short walk home.

When the next day does come up. Kyung assumes it’s the day Jiho will introduce him, so he takes extra care in putting his uniform together, wishing it were a little less ugly. If he tries really hard to block out the thoughts of Jiho’s actual family, of all the people who might have hurt Jiho before, he can pretend this is really Jiho ’s family he’s meeting. So, he gets dressed neat, even if no one will notice, all because they’re going to play make believe for as long as they can. 

Up until lunch, Kyung is fairly calm. It’s when he sits down on his usual side of the table that his nerves start up. It feels like it takes so long for Jiho to show up, and even when the older boy runs a hand across his back to soothe him, Kyung can’t kick the anxiousness. Jihoon picks up on it, raises an eyebrow and with real concern asks what’s wrong.

“I got something to announce,” Jiho starts, and the contrast between Jihoon’s worried face and Taeil’s smug smirk would be comedic if Kyung weren't feeling so sick. 

Everyone sits up, listening attentively, probably already deciding in their minds who might convey the information to Yukwon and Minhyuk later. Kyung looks down at his hands then at them, tries to convince himself that there’s no reason to worry. 

“Me and Kyung are dating.”

Kyung stops breathing at the combination of those words and Jiho ’s decision to take his hand and interlace their fingers between them. He really hopes no one else sees.

There’s instant chaos that breaks out, Jaehyo hits Jihoon a little too hard on the shoulder in his excitement and Taeil rolls his eyes at first only to join in on the teasing. “He really did follow you here because he thought you were cute, Jiho,” Jihoon points out, to which Jaehyo responds with a gagging noise. “Jiho? Cute? Kyung isn’t _blind._ ” Jiho makes a mock sound of indignance, not even trying to withhold a grin. With all the chatter, they miss Kyung’s quietness for a second.

He really shouldn’t be shocked by their reactions, it’s very much like them to nearly throw a riot over things like this. And he should feel glad that everyone is onboard with it, but he still feels apprehensive for reasons he can’t pinpoint. 

Jihoon pauses from the joking to point out Kyung’s silence, “Hey, you okay?” Jaehyo, a little slow and less perceptive, is about to crack another joke when Taeil elbows him. 

“Don’t worry, kid. We support you and Jiho, no one’s gonna hurt you over it.”  
Kyung thinks he could cry. 

The following week their study date is just a flimsy excuse to make out. There’s nothing else to it, they’re young and with Kyung in a phase of exploration, it’s all the more tempting. The apprehension Kyung had felt about it before fades and with it any guilt as he eagerly welcomes Jiho, in fact is bold enough to initiate things more often than not. Jiho is still careful, quick to stop things from going too far, and Kyung is once again glad that Jiho won’t escalate things yet. Just this is nice, it’s easy to kiss Jiho and worry about nothing else. 

Maybe that’s the problem, he’s too comfortable, thinks it’s easy when it really isn’t. 

Kyung breaks away from Jiho just to ask, “You’re going to be busy all break?’ 

The black-haired boy nods, apologetic but in no way willing to negotiate. The bills won’t pay themselves, and Kyung knows that too. 

“I have part of Christmas day off-” Jiho is only halfway through his offer when Kyung is already shaking his head. “Family,” Kyung explains with a pout that Jiho tries to kiss away, only when he pulls away Kyung still looks unhappy.

“It’s just two weeks.” 

All throughout break, Kyung meets with the boys maybe three times, but Jiho is never there. He has fun, sure, but it doesn’t stop him from missing the older boy. Without noticing, Jiho becomes such an integral part of Kyung’s life, constantly plaguing his thoughts. Moments where Kyung thinks of Jiho becomes scarily frequent, the boy is always on his mind. At times, Kyung almost even mentions Jiho over dinner because he wants to talk about Jiho so badly. He wishes his parents could understand how wonderful Jiho was, how caring and dorky and special he was. But they won't even try. 

Winter cold has Kyung increasingly unsettled within his own home. At nights the fizzing sensation in his nerves send him seeking fresh air and a clear head. Somehow the long, cool blue shadows that fall behind him as he walks alone at night only taunt him with further worries. But coming home makes it worse, because the posh laughter and the tight smiles his parents have seem like sneers that constantly mock him. He can’t shake the feeling that they know something, that they’re just waiting to snap at him when the moment is most cruel. He thinks they must want to humiliate him when the time is best, maybe at church on Christmas, maybe over dinner when the entire extended family is visiting, maybe when they’re alone and no one will be able to save him. The longer he is away from Jiho, the more elaborate the nightmares turn, the more daunting it all seems. 

When school resumes the following Monday, Kyung can’t contain his excitement to see Jiho. As Jiho walks over to their lunch table, Kyung is already up and crashing into Jiho ’s chest, arms tight around his waist and face pressed against the front of his shirt. Jiho laughs, deep and low, and Kyung can feel it reverberating in his chest and bubbling up like a song of reassurance. When Jiho just hugs Kyung back for a minute, kissing his head, there’s a chorus of groans and exaggerating gagging from the other boys, but Kyung can’t be bothered. He’s getting a little too confident, a little too comfortable, a little too in love.

Heavy grey clouds drag by slow overhead, the same way little groups of students walk by, chattering and laughing. Kyung can barely spare a second to even glance in their direction, too captivated by Jiho now that he’s here with him.

They hold hands throughout all of their lunch break, which makes it a little hard to eat, but Kyung refuses to let go. When Jiho starts up one of his dynamic stories that the others have to be quick to follow, Kyung still doesn’t let go. Instead, he lets Jiho raise and drop their intertwined hands as the boy gestures about his story from work. Kyung misses parts of the story because he gets caught up in watching Jiho ’s profile, focusing on the angle of his jaw, soft like the fluffy curve of his cheek and the wispy strands of his hair that’s gone too long uncut. He likes the strands that curl around his ears too, charcoal hairs contrasting with the shiny silver of his piercings. 

The bell rings and Kyung is annoyed to have to leave Jiho already, after two weeks of being apart. The impermanence of their time together, although unavoidable, frustrates Kyung to no end. He could never have predicted his attachment to Jiho to come this far, but it has and the effects are incredibly mentally draining. 

“I’ll walk you home, Kyungie,” Jiho reassures, smoothing a stray strand of hair sticking out at the top of Kyung’s head. 

There’s something off about the atmosphere when Kyung is walking out to the parking lot about twenty minutes after everyone’s gone home. Jiho probably isn’t out of his art class yet, likely finishing up some painting that he’s worked too hard on in comparison to the standards of the remedial art course. Waiting alone makes Kyung feel uneasy, when he’s done it dozens of times before. Maybe the early darkening of the sky is what makes him on edge, or maybe it’s the cold. Kyung can’t really say for sure, just pulls his blazer around himself and walks towards the end of the fence where he usually meets Jiho.

He’s dozing off, leaned against the fence, when someone harshly jerks him awake. It startles him, nearly sending him crashing to the floor and instantly he’s aware it’s not Jiho. Jiho would never be so rough with him. 

“Hey, it’s the fag,” yells a voice that is too close for comfort, and in response there’s inaudible shouts that grow a little louder by the second. Kyung has always _known_ that there are crude words thrown around by people in an expression of their disgust with queerness, yet he’s never experienced it directed towards himself. This is a first too, something that comes with the kissing and the hand holding between himself and Jiho who is very much a boy. 

Kyung sizes up the boys surrounding him, a little group of four who he’s sure are in his own class and has probably spoken to before. Right now, they make it seem as if they’ve never known him as anything but by the label: queer. Kyung can’t feel angry, just feels afraid and entirely helpless as they crowd him around the fence. 

The tension in the air is unmistakable, air pulled taut with the hostility dripping from their voices. Kyung isn’t sure when he drew their attention, can’t sort out the immense mess of thoughts in his mind enough to focus on any moment that might have caused him to out himself to these people. Everything he tries to think of is warped by the terror, making him wildly disoriented. He can’t find any plausible way out, can’t find any use in talking a path away from this.

So, he just lets them hit him. 

He can’t even count the number of slurs that they deride him with. The ridicule doesn’t stop, even when they pause from hitting him, they don’t halt the slander. Kyung thinks belatedly to cover his face. 

It feels like a very long six minutes that it takes Jiho to show up, but when he does, the group disperses pretty quickly. They probably could have fought Jiho , but they’re evidently not the type to pick a fight that puts anything at risk. They’re the lowly kind, picking fights because their parents have taught them they’re superior, and that they should exert that self-assigned privilege. 

“Get the fuck off of him.” Jiho practically pries one of the boys away, and the rest scatter reflexively upon witnessing one another’s wavering zeal. They don’t provoke any longer, but even as they head off, they taunt and mock continuously, making sure Jiho understands that they know he’s one of Kyung’s kind too. 

Kyung sits up, pulls his legs in so he can rest his head against his knees and avoid looking at Jiho. He wishes he weren’t crying, it’s too shameful but he can’t stop. 

“Are you okay?” Kyung hears Jiho ’s voice right by him, can tell the older boy is sitting next to him when an arm comes around him and pulls him a little closer. Kyung shakes his head, no, he’s not really all that okay. 

Jiho prods at Kyung’s arm, and when that doesn’t garner any response, taps at Kyung’s chin, “Here, let me see.” 

Reluctantly, Kyung lifts his head and wipes his eyes on his sleeve. His nose is bleeding and his face is a little cut up, but other than that he’s fine. Just shaken, and he himself knows that too. The crying seems illogical and facing Jiho just embarrasses him more. 

Jiho takes Kyung’s face in both hands, drawing a thumb lightly across one cheek where reddened scrapes draw parallel lines. “I’ll take care of you,” Jiho coos, pulling Kyung up with him as he stands. Kyung just sniffs and follows wordlessly. He feels kind of stupid, probably looks stupid too, with his hair in disarray and blood dribbling down his chin.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Jiho murmurs when he pulls Kyung close for a second, but Kyung can’t find the voice to respond. Numb and sore both at once, he just follows Jiho without a single sound. 

He’s never been in Jiho ’s house before, but it looks just about as horrible as he was guessing it would. Kyung gets rid of his blazer and sweater, tosses them on the arm of the couch because there’s nowhere else to put them.

There’s hardly any light inside, making everything appear even older and uglier. That’s what it is as a whole: ugly. The walls are an ugly grey, the kitchen has ugly flickering white lights, the couch is an ugly sagging mess, it’s ugly, ugly, ugly. 

Kyung just sits on the couch because Jiho directs him to and there’s not much else to do in a little room like this. There’s literally nothing beyond the bare necessities. There’s no TV, just a coffee table with a couple of worn books that probably can’t even be read comfortably in the incredibly dim lighting. There’s nothing else that would indicate someone really living here, and Kyung doubts the bedroom would say otherwise. 

In the few minutes Jiho is gone, Kyung just looks at the same few details in the room over and over again. He’s already tired of looking at it. There’s a stain on the ceiling and one to match on the carpet. He loosens his tie, suddenly finding it hard to breath here in the stale dryness of Jiho ’s living room. Liberated of the strangling sensation around his neck, Kyung just kicks at the scratched leg of the coffee table as he counts then loses track of the nicks and bumps in its surface. When Jiho comes back carrying a bottle of rubbing alcohol and cotton swabs, Kyung stops kicking.

The black-haired boy kneels in front of the couch so he’s at a better level to access Kyung’s face. The careful concentration on Jiho ’s face makes him look cute, even here in a place so dingy. Kyung can’t stay mad looking at Jiho from this new perspective, staring down at him inches away from his face. He just wishes it were easier to love Jiho.

Jiho tilts the bottle of rubbing alcohol with a cotton ball pressed to the opening. The sharp pungency of it makes Kyung scrunch his nose, anticipating the sting that is to come. “Sorry,” whispers Jiho , as if reading Kyung’s mind, before tilting Kyung’s face to dab at the scratches on his one cheek. Kyung closes his eyes and concentrates on the cold sting of the cotton ball pressed to his face. 

Kyung watches Jiho ’s eyes flit from place to place as he cleans the blood smeared around Kyung’s nose and the line of it that had ran down his chin and neck. He looks precise in his actions, as if calculating it all very carefully. The intensity of the focus in Jiho ’s face is a little exhilarating to watch. 

Then Jiho is undoing the first few buttons of Kyung’s shirt without preamble, tugging at it. “Take it off,” He demands, expression unchanged. 

“What?”

Kyung makes an indignant, strangled sound, pulling his arms in to hide not yet exposed skin. Jiho just blinks up at him, not understanding Kyung’s noncompliance. 

“Your shirt is dirty.” 

It just occurs to him now that that's what Jiho is getting at and feels a little stupid again. There’s little red drops across the front of his shirt, nothing much, but definitely there. But the refusal to strip still stands, and he stubbornly shakes his head. He’s incredibly insecure in every sense. They’ve come a long way but still not far enough, and this is not within Kyung’s comfort zone.

Jiho tilts his head, frowning. “Why? I’ll let you borrow something.” 

Kyung knows his reasoning is childish, and he doesn’t want to voice his concern, but there seems no other way that Jiho will understand. So, sounding insecure and a little unsure, he just requests, “Just...give me a shirt, I’ll change in the other room or something. If that’s fine, I mean.” 

Jiho doesn’t push it, just nods and leaves again, returning a minute later holding onto a white tee shirt. He tosses it to Kyung and disappears back into his room. Kyung assumes that’s his queue and pulls his shirt over his head quickly. 

The shirts much too big on Kyung, because not only is Jiho a lot taller than Kyung, his clothes also tend to be loose on himself. Kyung doesn’t mind it, though.

“You should just stay the night,” Jiho suggests as he crosses the living room towards the kitchen. “You have your school bag anyway, just call home and tell them you’re at a friend’s house for a project or something.” 

Jiho sounds tired, Kyung thinks. Looking around at the beat up little home Jiho has made for himself, Kyung can see the adult side of Jiho more fully. The Jiho who eats alone every night after working hours too late and reads the same books over and over again because he has no money to buy more, and no time to borrow any. He sees Jiho who’s put up with years of the abuse Kyung has just gotten a glimpse into. It’s Jiho against the world. 

Too emotionally drained to deal with getting home and making excuses, Kyung just agrees. He gets to the phone and dials the numbers slow as he can, forces a relaxed tone when he hears his mother answer. She seems reluctant to let him spend the night, but eventually lets it go when he says he just wants to get the project finished as soon as possible. When she hangs up, Kyung just collapses on the couch again and spends another ten minutes staring at the stain on the ceiling. 

There’s no chairs and the couch is a little far from the coffee table, so he and Jiho just sit on the floor and eat the too salty, too processed, meal Jiho has pieced together with whatever was left in his kitchen. They don’t talk much, but mostly because Kyung is on the verge of falling asleep. 

“I’m just gonna not do my homework,” he announces as he finishes his food, and Jiho doesn’t protest it.  
“Yeah, you should get some rest. I’ll let you have some sweats or something to sleep in.” 

Kyung is a little unsure about where he’s supposed to sleep, but once he’s changed, Jiho makes sure to soothe his worries. 

“You can sleep in my room, I’ll sleep on the couch, don’t worry.” Kyung just nods and follows the older boy to his room. 

As predicted, the bedroom is just as absent of any hints of being lived in. There’s a queen size bed in the center of the room, and two unmatching nightstands on either side of it. Kyung just stands at the door by Jiho, staring at the bareness of the room. When too long goes by like that, Jiho just takes Kyung’s hand in his and leans forward to kiss Kyung’s temple. The small gesture reminds Kyung of how badly he needs affection, so he turns and just hugs Jiho, relishes in the firm embrace and closes his eyes. He can’t believe himself. Just in such a simple action it is made evident that he values Jiho too much, enjoys his affection and company so much so that even harassment didn’t drive the message home: what they were doing was wrong. Oddly enough, Kyung refuses to change anything. He stays resolute in loving Jiho because it feels like there isn’t any other option.

Curled up in the too big bed, burrowed in Jiho ’s sheets, Kyung thinks about what this all means for the future.


	5. 99942 Apophis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He likes the way Jiho looks dangerous and acts it too, and when they regroup behind a convenience store, Kyung is completely taken by the windswept hair and the reckless laughs Jiho gives. Kyung’s heart skips a beat when Jiho looks at him and gives a big smile, the collar of his jacket turned up on one side and stray strands of hair obscuring his face._

Kyung had woken up surprisingly firm in his understanding of reality. Unphased by being in Jiho’s bed, he just sat up and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand, watching the closed door.

He had gone to class in one of Jiho’s extra white button ups, which was far too big and refused to stay tucked in properly. The sleeves hung down past his wrists and covered his palms, but it got the job done better than a blood-stained shirt. Jiho, worrying about Kyung’s tiredness from the previous day, had asked Yukwon to give them a ride to school rather than taking the bus. They didn’t talk a whole lot.

At lunch everyone remains entirely silent until Jiho shows up with Jaehyo. Kyung hadn’t been fully aware of their hierarchy, didn’t fully comprehend the gravitational pull the others had around Jiho. 

Jiho gets into talking, because everyone’s been awaiting his explanation. It’s hard to describe the way he looks now, the soft corners of his jaw not quite as rounded now with his muscles tense and teeth ground together since the previous day. 

“Some guys got Kyung and roughed him up for being with me, so I took him home. He’s fine, just kinda shaken.” Jiho pauses to run a hand comfortingly across Kyung’s back. It only helps minimally. “Fine, just shaken.” 

The silence is broken instantly after, a lot of arguing and heated curses being exchanged and thrown. Taeil proposes revenge and Jihoon says they should have Minhyuk and Yukwon know too, so they can help. Jiho just listens quietly. What scares Kyung more than anything is that the look on Jiho’s face says he’s seriously considering it. The burning gaze that he fixates on the table strong enough to sear a hole through it has Kyung’s skin crawling. He thinks that maybe Jiho needs reassurance more than anyone else, but in that moment, Kyung is too dense and too selfish to think of words for Jiho. 

When the conclusion inevitably and undeniably settles on some twisted concept of revenge under the guise of self-defense, Jiho speaks again, “I’m going to get Yukwon and Minhyuk, then.” The others are all nodding in agreement, as if possessed by something. Kyung can practically hear the hollow cackling of their skulls rattling under muscle and flesh as they blindly pledge their allegiance through their nodding. The resolve radiating from Jiho sparks fear in Kyung that shuns him from speaking up against it. 

Before leaving, Jiho turns to Taeil to say, “Stay with Kyung, okay?” And without hearing a response, he’s leaving with Jihoon tagging along. 

Kyung drops his head into his hands, and when the little lines of the wooden table under him begin to blur, he closes his eyes tightly. That doesn’t stop him from hearing Taeil’s cursing. He feels uneasy already, can sense the danger in this. Revenge never means well. And he’s not the type built for this kind of stuff, he’s not a getting in fights and forming grudges and rivalries type. 

He turns to Taeil and tries asking, “What’s Jiho gonna do?”

“Dunno. He says a lot of things.”

The black-haired boy doesn’t come back when the bell rings for their next class, so Kyung just gets up really slowly and Taeil walks him as far as he can to his classroom. Only, it’s no use, because after class when no one’s around to see, someone Kyung barely even recognizes shoves him against the wall so he hits his head but it’s okay, he thinks, because it only makes him dizzy for a moment. It’s the biting words and the casually strewn together slurs that feel worse. 

After school Kyung heads to his usual spot, rubbing at the sore spot on his head he walks. Jiho doesn’t miss it, Kyung can tell by the way his expression turns sour, eyebrows drawn in not in concentration but an undisguised hatred, one that still somehow pales in comparison to the way any of Kyung’s abusers despise him. Kyung regrets having done that, wishes Jiho didn’t worry. He’s able to dismiss the thought, though, when Jiho takes Kyung’s hand and swings it absentmindedly between them as they walk past the emptier side of campus. 

“We’re gonna take care of you, Kyungie.”

Kyung slows down, clutching the older boys hand a little tighter. He sounds a little breathless when he argues, “But you don’t have to, I’ll be okay. _We’ll_ be okay, if you just let it go. We can be more careful from now on, everyone will forget about it.” He’s just rambling, and he can tell Jiho isn’t convinced.

The words that escape Jiho’s mouth next make him feel cold to the bone. There’s an unsettling stare that Jiho has fixed on him, years of wrath and frustration and a too fierce love burning behind brown irises. 

“No, it never ends. It’s been too long, Kyung. Everyone will know, and they’ll never let it go.”

Kyung knows this isn’t about just him, this isn’t about just them either. Jiho has himself convinced it is, but really this is the instigation of an endless lifetime of battles Jiho has suffered through. It was just the breaking point. An insignificant little detail that became catalyst for every ounce of power Jiho could possibly contain being dedicated to this futile, senseless cause. 

The older boy won’t stop talking. The tone his words come in is vicious, venomous, a sound that sets Kyung on edge and his pulse quickening. 

“They were bound to figure it out eventually, and now they know. They’ll never forget, they’ll just keep repeating it until it’s like an unmistakable scar on your face.” Jiho pulls Kyung’s arm abruptly to stop his walk and presses a finger to one of the faint red lines across Kyung’s cheek, as if pointing out an example. He doesn’t pull back, just pushes with more pressure, makes Kyung’s face sting as the torn skin pulls taut, threatening for the freshly repairing seam of flesh to split again. Kyung’s eye contact with Jiho wavers under the intensity with which the older stares at him, and when he brings a hand to push the older away, he finds himself unable to. To his disappointment, Jiho doesn’t take the hint either, just tuts and takes his time tracing the scar with too much pressure applied. 

The trepidation turns Kyung’s heartbeat erratic, breathing forced. The implications behind Jiho’s words bring a multitude of worries crashing into Kyung’s mind, overwhelming him into a dreadful sensation he might have thought was vertigo. This sounds a lot like telling the whole world what they are, it sounds like there’s no going back, it sounds like there’s no discussion to be had. Kyung has no choice now.

When Jiho lets go and yanks at the younger’s hand to tug him along, the oppressive tension drains from the space between them. Kyung remains mute, searching for words that might convey his sincerest concerns. Jiho doesn’t let him have even that, just speaks again, “You must have known this would happen?” 

He definitely had anticipated this, the hardship that came with being what everyone said was abnormal. Jiho’s words sound like an accusation, and the worst part is that Kyung feels the blame assigned to him was justified. He should have known better, should have kept away from these boys the second he got caught up in thinking the soft black-haired boy pretty.

He doesn’t like this side of loving, this unfamiliar angst, these grown-up affairs.

At the corner Jiho takes hold of Kyung’s shoulder, stopping him a little too roughly from heading any further. “You tell your mom you got scratched up falling in the bushes in the back lot walking home, okay?” Kyung doesn’t object, just nods obediently and turns away, certain that Jiho stays standing there at the corner watching him leave. 

The door opens to cream walls and stainless carpets and a clear ceiling overhead, the bliss of middle class ignorance. When hands reached out to stroke his face and tug at him this way and that, he shakes them away, mechanically repeats Jiho’s words. It barely registers that those are the hands of the people who have raised him or grown with him, his mother, his father, his sister, his brother. Yet they feel equally as far as he feels misfitted in this suburban home. 

He gets in the shower and turns the water too hot. Steam rises languidly towards the ceiling and fogs the pane of glass on the shower door, turns the mirror clouded. It burns, hopefully burns all his sin away. When the scathing heat becomes only tepid, he turns the shower off and stands there suddenly cold and bereft of all comfort. Thoughts of Jiho merge with the stinging sensation of searing water that turns his skin pink. As the fog clears from the mirror and his face appears peering back at himself, he is reminded of his trust in Jiho. 

He trusts Jiho and he might even love Jiho, despite never having voiced the thought. It’s scary.

 

Seeing Jiho is generally a comfort to Kyung, but that sanctity seems ruined now. He’s standing with Yukwon and Minhyuk in the mostly empty lot for staff, baseball bat resting over one shoulder and the stick of a lollipop between his lips. The other two boys are saying something, but as Kyung walks over with the other still-in-school boys, they quiet down. 

“Kyungie, you’re just in time,” Jiho greets with a grin that really doesn’t match the leather jacket and the bat and the dark intentions. 

There’s really know way to guess wrong about what’s next. Kyung follows Jiho wordlessly, doesn’t have the heart to join in on the quiet chatter all the others naturally fall into. There’s dread weighing down heavy on him, and even guilt. Sure, it’s just revenge, an eye for an eye, but it still feels wrong. 

Classes are still going when they get around to the back lot so it’s eerily silent there. Jiho whistles to the tune of some nursery rhyme to fill the silence. 

They gather around a car that isn’t anything amazing, but it’s definitely in good condition and something that none of them, excluding Kyung, could ever afford. Jiho pulls the lollipop out of his mouth and purses his lips, but Kyung doesn’t miss the momentary grin.

Jaehyo leans on Taeil’s shoulder and tilts his head, staring at the car warily. “How you gonna know it’s the right car?” 

Yukwon answers easily for Jiho, sounding a little too relaxed for matters like this that have Kyung so stressed. “Research.” He taps at his head and winks, which is all the answer they really get. 

The crunch of glass and the sharp car alarm that follows has Kyung cringing. Jiho gets through two windows and smashes the hood in too for good measure before they’re all quickly moving off of campus. Kyung blindly follows, grabbing for Jiho’s hand and putting all his faith in him because there’s nothing else to do.

Secretly, the adrenaline is a little fun. He likes the way Jiho looks dangerous and acts it too, and when they regroup behind a convenience store, Kyung is completely taken by the windswept hair and the reckless laughs Jiho gives. Kyung’s heart skips a beat when Jiho looks at him and gives a big smile, the collar of his jacket turned up on one side and stray strands of hair obscuring his face. 

As much as Kyung loves this look on Jiho, it’s not worth their spiral into chaos. Everything gets out of control from that day forward. No matter how much Jiho thinks he has things in his grasp, the reality is that nothing is the same, there’s always something at stake, something to risk. 

Jiho walks Kyung home and Kyung gets in trouble for ditching class again but what does it matter when they got their revenge?

On the way home Kyung had stopped Jiho, tugging at the older boy’s hand shyly. They really need to talk, but it’s as if Jiho is barely giving him the time anymore.

“Jiho, I don’t think I want to do this.” He leaves out the little bit about how exhilarating it is, how captivating Jiho is when he’s high on the action and the defiance. 

The black-haired boy shakes his head and smiles sadly, holding both of Kyung’s hands between his. “I’ll make it up to you, let’s go out tomorrow, on a date.” That’s no promise of stopping, just a cover-up, another fickle game to detract from what’s really going on.

Kyung grins sheepishly, they’ve never gone on an official date before, and nods in agreement. It’s a good distraction from the vandalism.

The next afternoon Kyung waits at the curb wearing an oversized sweater with sleeves that drag down over his fingers and a collar that stretches out and slides down shoulders. He looks especially petite in it, and Jiho notices immediately. He reaches out to pinch Kyung’s cheek, “Baby, you look so cute.” Kyung blushes. 

Something has changed between themselves, Kyung thinks, but he can’t exactly decipher what that is. His mind stays preoccupied with thoughts on what has shifted in their relationship even when he tries to enjoy Jiho’s company. The walk is far and it’s cold. Jiho tries to compensate by pulling Kyung in close, arm tight around his shoulders. Kyung fits nicely against Jiho’s body, a space conveniently Kyung-sized at Jiho’s side, and the softness of the older boy very welcoming. 

The place Jiho has chosen isn’t exactly to Kyung’s tastes, it’s a little rough even to their standards. They settle at a booth and Jiho keeps his arm slung across Kyung’s shoulders, a relaxed slant to his own. The older boy is quick to order a drink, and to Kyung’s surprise, there is no request of an ID. He had always assumed the extent of Jiho’s drinking was at parties.

“I didn’t know you drink,” Kyung mumbles, looking up at Jiho with eyebrows furrowed. Jiho laughs a little and leans into Kyung to kiss the edge of his jaw affectionately. “You don’t know a lot of things,” he teases, but it just makes Kyung uneasy. He wants to know everything about Jiho and had thought he was pretty near to that goal. Right now, it feels like there's a long way to go, like maybe he’s made a bad decision in rushing into loving Jiho. 

When their food gets to them, Jiho has already gotten through his drink but promises that’s all he’ll have because he’s noticed Kyung’s discomfort. 

Kyung watches his food, thinking about the past week thoroughly. It’s been a quickly progressing few months, and he never seems to have enough time to think it through. It bothers him that even after reviewing the details of the past few months he finds nothing that he’d want to change. 

They talk like they used to. They sit really close, and sometimes when no one’s looking, Jiho takes a risk and kisses Kyung’s face softly. Jiho’s growing boldness in their relationship is dangerous but it seems only Kyung is aware of it. Right now, he’s having too much fun to bring attention to it. 

“You know, I’ll get a car pretty soon, then we can go out more,” Jiho mentions at some point, leaning back and setting his glass down. Kyung raises an eyebrow. 

“Yukwon doesn’t need his car anymore, getting something new I guess, so I figure I’ll buy it off him cheap.” The elaboration only bewilders Kyung more. It makes no sense that Yukwon had stopped working for the most part and had somehow still managed to acquire the money for another car. But Kyung doesn’t dare voice that inconsistency of the story aloud, just nods. 

It’s the usual, Jiho walks Kyung home, Jiho rambling about having broken two dishes earlier that morning.

Kyung giggles and leans into Jiho, “You’re so dumb,” but he kisses Jiho’s cheek anyway. He has to get on his toes to do so, and Jiho jokingly pushes Kyung when he’s off balance. They’re all laughs, but somewhere between it all Jiho clarifies, “That’s for calling me dumb, stupid.” Kyung shoves Jiho with absolutely no force and ends up just stumbling into the older boy, still caught in a fit of grinning and laughing. 

Still snickering, Jiho grabs Kyung by the waist and turns him around to make a bold move and kiss him. It’s chaste and Kyung can barely stop smiling through it. When they pull apart and Jiho looks down at Kyung, the fondness that fills Kyung’s chest is unbearable because he can’t even begin to find a way to express it. He’s glad it’s pitch black now, so no one can see them. More secret minutes of secret love. 

He wants to tell Jiho he loves him, but he’s not sure if that’s true. Maybe it’s just a phase that soon he’ll fall out of. Right now, it feels a lot like love. 

Kyung’s hands are caught in his too-long sleeves but Jiho holds on anyway, lacing their fingers together. It’s dark out but under the moonlight and the yellow glow of street lamps, Kyung can still make out the enamored look Jiho is giving him. 

Jiho purses his lips, bashful for a second. He sounds bare and honest when he speaks, “You know Kyungie, I really won’t let anyone hurt you. I won’t let anything happen to us.” When he says it like that, it doesn’t come across as so daunting. Kyung agrees with a little hum, squeezing Jiho’s hand and closing his eyes briefly. It’s silly, but he wants to be with Jiho for a long time. 

Early next morning Kyung sits on his bed and swings his legs idly. It’s still not fully light out, pale blue light falling across his room from the window. It’s going to be a boring day of homework and studying. He watches the hazy blue of the sky and thinks about Jiho, wishes he were with him right now. They could wrap up in the sheets, legs touching and bodies tangled up in one another, sharing the same blissful sky and chilly air. Kyung frowns and decides to go back to bed, burying his face in the pillow and letting a dreamless sleep reclaim him. 

Almost 7:00 PM Kyung gets a call. His mother picks it up first and stares at Kyung with a piercing glare, lips pulled in a taut grimace. “Kyung, someone says that you’re late for a mandatory club meeting?” 

Kyung is equally as confused but pretends to know what’s going on as he takes the phone from his mother’s hand and holds it up to one ear. “Hello?”

On the opposite end is Taeil, Kyung can tell instantly by not only the tone of his voice but the style of speaking and the shrill panicking of Jaehyo somewhere behind him. 

“Shit’s gone wrong, we’re further in this than we thought and it’s bad.”

Kyung doesn’t understand. “Okay, what time should I come?” He watches his mother from the corner of his eye.

“Minhyuk will get you in like...fifteen? Fifteen, yeah. Okay, just wait at the usual spot. Fuck.” 

Kyung frowns deep and glances at his mother again. Inhaling slow and thinking fast, he keeps going, “Got it, fifteen minutes. Uh, can I ask, what is it that I missed so far? I know I’m late but I’ll make up for it.” He’s glad the others are so good at lying too.

“Jiho got caught up in a fight.” 

Kyung nods slowly and ends the call. His mother is watching. He feels cold. “I have to go now. Sorry for the trouble, Mom. I’m gonna have to go now.” He numbly moves to his room and despite the howling collection of concerns rushing with adrenaline through his veins, he finds the clarity to pull on a jacket and fit bandages and gauze and rubbing alcohol under it. Then he’s out the house before anyone has the chance to question the oddity of it. 

When Minhyuk pulls up, it’s tense and neither speak. The drive is too fast and they run too many red lights, but the streets get gradually emptier and emptier as they get closer to where the others are waiting. Kyung grips the corner of the seat, trying his best not to panic. 

The car stops so suddenly that Kyung almost hits the dashboard and there’s a screech as they skid to a halt. Kyung fumbles with his seat belt and tumbles out, instantly falling into the bursts of recap the other boys are offering. The chaos has his head spinning and none of the explanations reach him beyond the first few words. All he can do is breathlessly shake his head and gasp, “Where?” 

They’re in an unfamiliar space with hardly any light. It’s disgusting, piles of trash looming over from one side of the alley and puddles that look black in the lack of light littering the floor under foot. Kyung peers curiously into the dark, seeking out Jiho. 

“There,” Minhyuk points out, flicking his hand in the direction of the ground where Jiho sits crumpled up, Taeil crouched beside him. Kyung gets closer and forgets how to breathe when he gets a proper look at Jiho. 

It’s too dark to be sure of what the extent of the older boy’s injuries is, but Kyung can still see the blackened patch on the front of Jiho’s shirt and the sticky black-red blots on his face. Kyung drops to his knees, suddenly uncaring of the mess under them. Ruined jeans can be explained later. 

He glances up at the others who have gradually come around to look and instructs with a shaky voice, “L-light. Someone get some light.” He struggles with the zip of his jacket, fingers shaking, but eventually gets it undone and settles what he has in his lap. Light flashes on over his head.

In the light it looks both worse and better at once. There’s a chorus of groans and swearing around him because it definitely looks bad, but Kyung feels some reassurance in seeing things better now. As bad as things look, nothing important seems messed, and for the most part it must be superficial. 

“Is he conscious?” Kyung looks up expectantly, awaiting an answer. Everyone exchanges glances, obviously out of their depth. Jaehyo clears his throat and offers a meek response, “He _was_. I don’t know now…” Kyung nods slowly, assumes that Jiho was never fully aware of his surroundings. 

“He has to keep breathing,” Kyung mumbles, pushing Jiho to rearrange his body and lie him down on his side. He’s extra careful in bending up his knee and repositioning his arm and leans forward to hear Jiho’s breathing. “Someone call an ambulance.”

There’s instant disagreement as everyone refuses to do so. “No, we’re in trouble if they start asking what happened.” Kyung breathes in slow, trying his best to stop his hands shaking. This is scary. 

“But he’s not..., what if he doesn’t wake up?” Kyung is surprised by the way his own voice wavers. His own words trigger his eyes watering and he thinks he might cry. He’s not really sure what else to do, just stares down at Jiho and tries his best not to let the tears start.

Everyone stays quiet, affirmed in their refusal to let anyone call help. Kyung is running out of ideas and is seconds from a break down when he sees Jiho stir. 

“Jiho, baby.” Kyung wants to reach out and shake the boy but he knows better. Instead he shuffles back to provide space and watches intently. 

A few minutes pass and Jiho struggles to sit up. Jaehyo and Jihoon are quick to help him up, insisting he not move too much. As Jiho reorients himself and grows more firm in his vision, Kyung scoots closer and asks, “What’s your name?” There’s a few seconds pause as Jiho blinks slowly at Kyung as if trying to catch the younger boy in some deception. 

“Jiho.”

Kyung nods and gives a wavering smile, trying his best to be brave for Jiho’s sake. They go through a few more questions until Kyung is sure that Jiho is solid in his mentality. The others are, thankfully, awed in to silence. So, Kyung has the space to get up close and start assessing the nicks and bruises on his boyfriend’s face. 

“Are you losing a lot of blood?” Kyung warily watches the red patch across the front of Jiho’s shirt.

“No.”

With Jiho’s face basking in harsh light, the cuts on his face aren’t so bad. Kyung dabs at them quickly yet delicately, and as the excess blood washes away, the injuries reveal themselves as minor. Jiho doesn’t so much as flinch. 

The blotches of red on Jiho’s knees make Kyung sick. There’s some corners already scabbed, but for the most part they look like black pools of thick blood. Jiho’s jeans are already ripped, probably torn in whatever happened during his scrabble, so Kyung figures there’s not much use in salvaging them. He tears the holes a little further and stares at the injuries even though they make him queasy. 

“I wish I had tweezers,” he mumbles upon noticing little specks of dirt and gravel clinging to the thick viscosity of the blood. With no choice left, Kyung just uses the alcohol excessively in hopes everything will wash out. He prays Jiho isn’t hurting too bad but it’s hard to tell when Jiho is tired and barely responding to anything. Even now, Kyung can’t stop his hands shaking and he’s spilled the rubbing alcohol on his own leg too. 

Cleaning up Jiho’s knees is messy. Kyung’s fingers are stained red as he pulls away gauze after a failed attempt at wrapping the boy’s knees up in bandage. The second try goes better, but it’s nowhere near neat. 

Kyung is quick in cleaning up the black-haired boy’s hands, unforgivingly dragging rubbing alcohol over his knuckles where blood has caked and turned dark. Then Kyung closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to prepare himself for what’s next.

“Let me see,” He demands, voice still coming out wavering. Jiho doesn’t hold back, pulls his arms aside so Kyung can lift his shirt and find...absolutely nothing. The relief is short lived once it occurs to everyone that the blood had to have come from _somewhere_. Kyung squeezes his eyes shut and groans. “What did you do? Please, Jiho, tell me you didn’t screw everything up.” 

Jiho looks awfully apologetic for someone who acts so impulsively. Minhyuk leans forward, glaring angrily. “What the hell did you do?” Even Kyung shakes at the accusation implied in Minhyuk’s demand. 

Everything goes painfully quiet when Jiho fiddles with his jacket and shuffles around to produce a switchblade only half closed, the red across it’s silver surface appearing luminescent under the stark light. 

Kyung feels his heart sink. He’s glad he’s sitting because he’s sure his legs are shaking even now. What has he gotten himself into?

The boys are about to burst into another chorus of arguing and discussion when Minhyuk stops them. “Whatever, doesn’t matter, we need to leave,” He interjects, gesturing to the others to get Jiho up already. Jihoon grabs Kyung’s hand and pulls him up, and Kyung still has the sense to look down at his jeans and internally groan at whatever it is that has soaked and stuck itself against them.

Kyung steps back and lets the others figure out how to get Jiho to the car, but eventually Jiho shrugs everyone away, claiming the dizziness has subsided. For good measure, and because he’s worried, Kyung still presses himself to Jiho’s side and to no one’s surprise, Jiho doesn’t push him away. 

All the lights of neon signs and still glowing store windows turn bleary and smudged on the ride home. Jiho hugs Kyung, cheek resting on his shoulder and surely leaving a red stain there, faint but there. Kyung figures it doesn’t even matter considering his jeans are ruined too. 

They pull over in front of Jiho’s street and after a short discussion, Kyung convinces everyone that it’s best he be the one to spend the night with Jiho. Yukwon doesn’t argue it long because it’s already late and he has to drive everyone home, but Minhyuk seems skeptical and offers taking Jiho home. Kyung remains adamant on taking care of it, and eventually Minhyuk gives in, giving a slow nod before driving his truck in the opposite direction from where Yukwon had gone. 

Jiho has a hard time unlocking the door, so once inside Kyung settles him on the couch and leaves to find clothes for him. After shuffling around and leaving his wardrobe in disarray, Kyung returns with sweats and a baggy shirt for him. Jiho changes his shirt with easy, balling up the blood stained one and tossing it in the corner of the room, making it a problem for later. He struggles with his jeans, the holes getting caught on bandages. Kyung feels a little suspicious of his remaining disorientation but calms himself by remembering Jiho was able to walk around just fine earlier so he must be tired is all. After watching Jiho almost ruin his hard work, Kyung rushes over to help Jiho. 

Hands at either side of his legs, Kyung sighs heavily and commands, “Lift.” And Jiho does, shifting his hips up so Kyung can slide them over his thighs fully and carefully detangle the torn threads from the gauze. Then it’s easy and Jiho is quick in pulling the sweatpants on, pausing after to kiss Kyung’s cheek as the younger bends over to pick up the discarded jeans. 

Somehow this isn’t something that makes Kyung feel uncomfortable. Maybe he’s too tired to care right now. Maybe he’s getting better at being okay with it.

“I’m gonna change too,” Kyung tells the boy, and rather than asking for clothes to borrow, he simply helps himself in picking out some shorts and a tee shirt. When he gets back, Jiho looks like he’s falling asleep so Kyung instructs him to go to bed. 

Jiho smiles sweetly as Kyung tucks the blanket around him. “Thanks for taking care of my Kyungie, I’m so tired.” Kyung just rolls his eyes and kisses the boy’s cheek, annoyed but probably in love. 

“Are you going to tell me what happened then?”

Kyung watches Jiho expectantly as he settles himself on the opposite of the bed, legs crossed and a pillow hugged to his chest. Jiho nods, watching the ceiling above as if he can see the stars behind it.

“I’m sorry, Kyung. They were saying things about you, and I couldn’t just let them.” Jiho’s face makes him appear vacant of sense, as if he’s oblivious to logic. 

“You could. I don’t want you doing this for me,” Kyung pauses to take a breath, “This is scarier, seeing you get hurt.” 

Jiho ignores that and turns over onto his side, looking up at Kyung. He fixes the pillow under his head and smiles up at Kyung with his lips pressed together and eyebrows raised slightly. “You can stay here,” Jiho offers, pulling up the blanket some more. Kyung rolls his eyes and replies, “I already called home, it’s not like I can leave your dumb ass.” 

“No, I mean, sleep here. With me.” Jiho smiles so innocently and reaches out an arm to grab at Kyung’s hand, that Kyung actually considers it. 

“Okay, yeah. Whatever.” His heart flips and he feels something like butterflies. He’s not sure if Jiho notices it, but even if he does, he doesn’t say anything or try to go back on the request. He shuffles around and places the pillow back, turning on his side so he can face Jiho. They will certainly discuss the specifics of whatever it is Jiho has done, but Kyung is just as tired currently, so it’s a topic to address tomorrow. 

Jiho looks pretty like this too, sleepy and face wearing newly forming bruises. Kyung can look past those to see the shy smile across his lips and the softness of his cheeks and the way his smile reaches his eyes. Kyung finds his hand under the sheets and squeezes tight. It feels intimate, lying beside one another and wordlessly expressing their shared love. 

Sleep comes to him thinking of their love, thinking of his love for Jiho, thinking of how terrified he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anyone reading this? If you are, I hope it's good enough!


	6. Burned Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It’s starting to seem like a cycle of good and bad. Kyung isn’t sure if those momentary good times are worth being constantly shrouded in nervousness outside them._

There’s so many stars that it’d be impossible to notice if one or two burned out. In the grand scheme of things, a handful could even burst and no one would even know. Thinking like that is reassuring. Somewhere out there is a place where no one would notice the weird kids, the ones without money to blow and the ones with love a little strange and the ones who plain and simple got sick of the scrutinizing gaze of society. 

Kyung wakes up in Jiho’s arms, body fitted perfectly against Jiho. He doesn’t remember when they ended up like that, but it’s warm being pressed up against Jiho’s chest, definitely too cozy to argue. In part he notices their perfect chemistry, their perfect fitting together, only because he’s in love. It’s like seeing everything through rose-tinted glasses- it’s all deception. But Kyung feels that it has to be true that, at least to some extent, they really are supposed to be together, even if it is briefly. He has such strong feelings for Jiho, it’s unfathomable to think that he could just decide not to love this boy. Teenagers fall in and out of love easily and no one bats an eye. This is his falling in love and maybe he’ll fall out of it too but what does it matter? No one should care at all, because it’s just a thing kids go through. It’s a thing everyone experiences, love and the growth and the death of it. 

It’s not long before Jiho wakes up too, blinking slowly and yawning with his arms stretched over his head. The way he stretches out makes Kyung think of a cat and he giggles. Jiho presses a sloppy kiss to Kyung’s forehead despite the disorientation from just having woken up and sits up. If Kyung weren’t so hopelessly lost in his feelings for Jiho, he’d have thought it was kind of gross. Kyung thinks to get up but stops when he rolls over and notices how handsome Jiho looks from where he’s lying down. Jiho’s face is puffy from sleep and it’s roughed up from the night before, but he still looks soft and lovable in the early morning shadows that fall from the curtains. 

They’re supposed to talk about serious things now. Kyung convinces himself the only reason he’s not going to bring it up yet is because he should let Jiho wake up properly. Really, he’s not sure he wants to return to that world and instead wants to keep pretending it didn’t happen. He’d rather just watch the shifting light, from now until the sun’s setting, and how the colors would change and morph across Jiho’s face. 

It’s boring waiting for Jiho to get done with his shower. Kyung looks through some of the books laying on the nightstand, flicking through them over and over again. He’s not interested enough to read more than brief excerpts here and there. He’s reading a page that makes absolutely no sense to him when he hears the click of the bathroom door unlocking. He looks up to see Jiho, towel slung low around his hips. 

Suddenly shy, Kyung averts his eyes. He feels warm and doesn’t know where to look, because although he’ll deny it, he kind of wants to look at Jiho, but the thought makes him feel dirty. Instead he panics and flicks between looking at the ground and then at the book, eventually just burying his head in the sheets again out of frustration. He hears Jiho try and fail to stifle a snort of laughter. 

Still sounding amused but making an effort to pretend it didn’t happen, Jiho says, “Uh, I left an extra towel for you, and I guess you can take whatever clothes you want. I’m gonna make us something to eat.” 

Kyung mumbles an inaudible response, words muffled by the sheets, but Jiho pretends to understand and says “okay” before leaving. True to his word, Jiho does have breakfast cooking when Kyung gets out of the shower, dressed in a clean, oversized hoodie that he’s stolen from Jiho. 

“Are you wearing pants?” Jiho raises an eyebrow and leans away from the kitchen counter to look at Kyung’s legs. The younger boy laughs awkwardly and nods, “Yeah, stupid. I’m wearing shorts, it’s just your clothes are really big.” He wishes Jiho would stop looking at him because the way his face is tinted pink with blush is embarrassing. 

Kyung joins Jiho in the kitchen and steals food off the plates that the older boy hasn’t finished preparing yet. Jiho just rolls his eyes and swats at Kyung’s head which does little to deter him. It’s almost too blissfully domestic to interrupt, but they can’t dodge pressing matters forever. Between mouthfuls of food Kyung asks, “So, we’re gonna talk now, right?” Jiho stills, refusing to look at Kyung now. The way Jiho’s expression shifts completely is unsurprising but still disappointing. Kyung already anticipates the closed off attitude and the vague answers as the older boy once again will fail to listen to him. 

The younger steps closer, settling a hand on his boyfriend’s back. As hard as talking about it is, he’s not letting this go. 

When Jiho finally looks up, there’s no apology in his eyes, just stubborn defiance and malicious resistance. “No one died, if that’s what you wanted to hear,” he spits bitterly, looking up dully and even having the audacity to roll his eyes. Kyung feels annoyed. 

“I don’t like this,” Kyung responds, grabbing Jiho’s hand and shutting off the stove with the other. It’s as if Jiho isn’t listening because no matter how many ways Kyung says he’s uncomfortable with this, Jiho stays affirmed in his belief that there is no other route. 

There’s a minute more of tense glaring before Jiho’s shoulders drop and the stiff pride fades, his head tilted slightly. “Kyung, you just don’t understand,” He mumbles, tone patronizing. Kyung pulls his hand away and crosses his arms, trying not to let the annoyance grow into anger. 

“Okay. Wash my clothes too when you clean yours. I’m going home.” 

At home Kyung expects being scolded and he is unfortunately correct in his predictions. His father disapprovingly glances over his newspaper from where he sits at the kitchen island, and his mother turns away from the tea kettle to say, “Kyung, what on earth are you wearing?” 

He looks down at himself, at the worn sweatshirt that’s so big it swallows his thighs in it too. “Got my jeans dirty,” He answers, fingers fiddling with the hem of it. His parents don’t look too pleased. 

His father sets down the newspaper now, “What club was this again? Why did they need you overnight?” Kyung takes a breath and thinks of a new lie to tell, one that will last him a while. He’ll fix lies with more lies because even though that’s exactly what everyone says not to do, there isn’t really any other way out. 

“Astronomy club.” 

The response has them bewildered and confused into silence. Kyung takes the wordless expressions as a moment to elaborate, “We were doing a star gazing thing, there were some constellations we were going to look at and get some pictures of. Ended up being too cloudy.” They seem skeptical but don’t push him further. Before he has even turned around he hears the whispering disappointments and criticisms. _What’s gotten into him lately?_. And _We can’t really expect him to achieve anything with his acting out like this_ and anything else they can pass off as normal parental concerns. They see him becoming a disappointment now, what would they see if they were to know of Jiho? 

Kyung goes directly to his bedroom and buries himself in his sheets, wishing sleep would come to him. At least while he was asleep he didn’t have to worry about all the stupid things Jiho might get up to. But now he can barely concentrate on anything besides Jiho.

It’s starting to seem like a cycle of good and bad. There’s brief highs, moments he’s hopelessly lost in his feelings for Jiho, then there’s the unavoidable fear and hurting from Jiho’s foolishness. Kyung isn’t sure if those momentary good times are worth being constantly shrouded in nervousness outside them. However, it’s unfair to blame it all on Jiho because in some part that anxiety stems from Kyung’s uncertainty in his sexuality, too. He’s still afraid of being found out, still feels dirty some days when he thinks about Jiho in ways he shouldn’t, still wishes there was a way to go back. Maybe if he had never met Jiho this wouldn’t have happened. And just like that, the blame returns to Jiho; Jiho must be a bad influence. 

It’s almost as if Jiho’s attempts are backfiring, because with every proceeding school day, the attention seems to increase. Kyung can barely get between classes without being glared at or talked about. However, he’d be lying if he said that the physical assaults were not beginning to subside. Slowly, but surely, people were growing hesitant in their opposition to Kyung. It didn’t feel any better, though. Being watched and gossiped about from the shadows, being sneered at and defamed, was no better. 

During that week it so happens that Kyung is left alone at their lunch table. He doesn’t mind waiting, just idly swings his legs and watches for the other boys. At this point just his existence draws unwanted attention, so it’s really no surprise at all when a passing by group of boys settle at Kyung’s table, snickering already. 

Kyung doesn’t look up from his food. He doesn’t look up even when one of them calls him names that make him feel dirty. He flinches when they talk about Jiho, but he doesn’t look up even once. 

Kyung raises his head to see Jiho. And around him are his other boys, but Kyung only really sees Jiho. Dangerous and handsome but mostly dangerous. The others disperse like birds at the sight of Jiho, their taunts faltering. 

“They didn’t hurt you, did they?” Kyung shakes his head obediently. 

Jiho nods and puts his hands in his pockets. His silence is threatening, Kyung can only begin to think of what Jiho might be deciding right now. The silence feels like a lifetime, when really it isn’t, because the other group is still hanging around when Jiho finally makes up his mind.

He turns and he hits the closest one so hard that Kyung thinks even he could feel it through just the visualization. There’s a little scuffle but it’s kind of pathetic because Jiho’s boys have no trouble handling themselves. Kyung takes a bite of his lunch and glances up minimally to watch. 

Staff from the school show up to tear them apart. Jiho, although reluctant, backs off as soon as he’s told, earning himself only a short expulsion. The others are let off with community service and detentions for the most part. Jiho flashes Kyung a big smile despite it all, as if asking _look at me, aren’t you proud?_ Kyung looks away. 

What’s worse than the expulsion is that Jiho treats it as a break from school rather than consequences to his idiocy. He offers to take Kyung out for dinner one of the days on which he’s banned from attending classes but Kyung declines with the excuse of homework and an upcoming exam. He wishes Jiho would reflect on things. 

Jiho builds up his reputation quickly from that day onwards. It’s as if he returns to school only to cause more trouble. The black-haired boy has not only teachers and staff tired, but Kyung too. He feels equally as unenthusiastic at this returning to school as they do, due to the fear of his causing trouble. Kyung finds it impossible to convey his opinion to Jiho. Even the most direct approaches prove useless when the constant begging falls flat as Jiho continues to do what he thinks is fair. Kyung wishes he’d understand that this isn’t about fairness, because life isn’t always fair, and because this is so, so scary. 

He feels like a child sometimes. The small gap between their ages stretches on as Jiho fulfills this new persona. Kyung wants to go back to giggling between kisses and trading homework (Jiho liked literature and Kyung was quick with numbers). Honestly, he misses the days when their only worries were about being found out.

The first day Jiho returns to school is half way into February. Even if Kyung is mad, he still missed Jiho. So, he lets Jiho wrap his arms around his waist and pull him close and can’t help but smile when Jiho presses a kiss to the side of his neck. 

“I missed you,” Jiho mumbles against his cheek before placing a kiss there too. Jaehyo mocks gagging and Taeil groans his agreement with that sentiment. Jiho straightens up but still holds on to Kyung as he quips back, “You bunch are just bitter you’ve been lonely so long.” Jaehyo tries to argue it, but he comes up short on evidence of any romantic endeavors that are recent enough to be qualifiable. 

Kyung twists around in Jiho’s arms, lips turned in a faint smile as the boys amusingly bicker on. “Ji-ho, so you’re done with trouble?” He’s asking daft questions and he’s just as dense for expecting Jiho to respond in the way he wants. He’s young and youth is an overwhelming amount of hope, dazzling and brilliant and gleaming. 

The older boy shakes his head and lets Kyung go. Being let go, he’s petrified, needs Jiho to hold on forever. He needs Jiho to stop saying these things and doing these things because everything about Jiho has been terrifying, and it’s becoming too much. It’s so scary loving Jiho. 

Kyung grabs for Jiho’s hand but it seems to evade him as Jiho brings it up to point his fingers at the sky in another fit of gesturing unhelpfully. “All this trouble is for us,” He explains, smiling so serenely that Kyung could almost fall for it if he hadn’t just seen the things Jiho had been getting up to. This trouble is for boys like Jiho, not for those like Kyung. 

The boys chatter on, deaf to the turmoil that plagues Kyung. They can’t even begin to envision the growing rift between Kyung and everything he’s ever known. They’ve been on Jiho’s side from the start and would gladly die there, but Kyung is of a different kind. He’s known only one world all his life, one that’s safe and welcoming. This is a fork in the road that’s become incredibly difficult to decipher. The answer must be to follow Jiho but there’s uncertainty in his own abilities. How can he navigate this course of events when all it really is is following Jiho with blind trust and wavering faith?

Classes are all that remain constant. Kyung figures it won’t be long until Jiho ruins that too. Already Jiho occupies his thoughts during classes, why not have him interrupt it more thoroughly? The bitterness frustrates Kyung and he gives up on getting any legible notes down. He hates that Jiho’s reckless actions are clouding his feelings, too.

Kyung finds Jiho in the art classroom after school which is a pleasant surprise. Painting Jiho is a lot more preferable to an idle Jiho. Jiho with free time is a Jiho who let’s bad thoughts brew and festering feelings grow into impulsive actions. 

The softness of who Jiho is in this setting turns Kyung tender, too. He wraps an arm around Jiho in a half hug, finding his hand and intertwining their fingers. There’s the slick slip of paint between their fingers and palms. Kyung freezes until he hears Jiho laugh. 

“You could’ve just waited outside, I’d be out soon,” Jiho says instead of greeting, pausing after to sneak a kiss to Kyung’s temple. Kyung shakes his head, smiling already, “I wanted to see you now.” Jiho nods but it’s hard to miss the big grin on his face. When they detangle their fingers, there’s a new color amidst old colors. “Sorry,” Kyung says, staring down at his own hand. 

Jiho presses his fingers into the corner of his canvas, marring the pretty field of flowers with blotches of improperly mixed paint. “It’s okay,” he answers belatedly, sneaking one last kiss. 

They both wash up at the sink and Kyung even helps clean some of the brushes. Then they’re out the building, this time both shouting quick goodbyes to the teacher. Kyung takes Jiho’s hand once they’re out, rubbing his thumb in small circles against Jiho’s hand. When they get off campus he tries letting go but Jiho refuses. 

“This isn’t safe,” Kyung points out, trying to pull his hand away. 

Jiho remains firm in his grip but doesn’t really look at Kyung. Nonchalantly he replies, “It’s fine. I told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” If only Kyung had fully understood the implications hidden there. 

February comes to a close with Jiho being expelled from school again. Not that it matters, he’s not there most of the time anyway, always caught up in suspicious business with Yukwon and Minhyuk. Kyung still has no idea what Yukwon and Minhyuk have been doing that has liberated them from their work, but Kyung had been tipped off about a fight between Yukwon and his girlfriend earlier that month. However, the gossip had travelled through the entirety of the still-in-school boys, excluding Jiho, so there could be flaw in the validity of it. 

Kyung finds Jiho in the parking lot waiting by what was once Yukwon’s car but has now earned a new owner. Kyung is too tired to bother asking where the money came to Yukwon from to afford the new car he has had lately, or to wonder what happened to his plans of moving out with his girlfriend.

“I should go home,” Kyung starts as soon as he sees Jiho, “But I guess we can do something, if you want.” Jiho beams down at him and the apprehension that grows in Kyung’s chest should be an indicator of how bad things are going to get. Maybe he should learn to follow his intuition. But right now, they’re all on Jiho’s time, all living Jiho’s style. 

The changes in who Jiho has become have been so drastic, yet his core character persists. Kyung is so easily deceived by this indecipherable person. Jiho is the boy he still loves, and he’s still entirely himself, but the behavior he’s given into has been incredibly growing in its absurdity. 

As Kyung gets in the passenger seat and clicks the belt into place, he catches sight of a small cut at the junction of Jiho’s shoulder and neck. “Baby, what happened,” Kyung says with a surprising amount of patience. Of course, he doesn’t give Jiho time to form an excuse and grabs hold of his collar instead, stretching the fabric down to get a better look. The gash dips down low across his shoulder and looks poorly treated. 

Jiho pulls away and starts the car.  
“Jiho, what did you do?” 

The older boy sounds eerily calm. “Look, Kyungie, aren’t you sick of this?” Kyung doesn’t understand what he’s talking about. “Because I am.” 

Looking down at his hands, Kyung can’t tell why he can’t stop them shaking. He takes a deep breath but that wavers too. 

Jiho looks over briefly before turning his attention back to the road. “I don’t mean to pressure you, Kyungie. I wouldn’t hold it against you if you bailed now.” The implications there make Kyung sick and subconsciously he’s weakly scrabbling at the door for a way out. “But you should pick a side. now”

It’s so unfortunate that he loves Jiho. Or maybe their circumstances are more unfavorable. It’s a horrid combination of all the unfairest things in life. 

“I’m with you.” 

Jiho takes one hand from the wheel to rub Kyung’s back and grants an approving smile. “I’m sorry I have to burden you like this, baby,” He says, and what makes is worst is how it sounds so sincere. Kyung is convinced Jiho is just plain stupid. Maybe it’s the years of oppression that have turned him desperate for an escape, it’d only be a matter of time until Kyung would be the same. It’s either this or he lets the not-so-pleasant buzz of forced therapies turn him just as stupid. That thought makes him sick too. 

Jiho pulls up to the closest to his house and gets the trunk open. “I have some stuff, hold on,” He directs as he shuffles through a large tarp. Kyung kicks at weeds that grow between cracks in the sidewalk, crushing their stems and grinding their leaves into darkened pulp. ‘Okay, let’s go,” Jiho’s voice comes again.

The older boy leads him home and even though it’s ugly as it was the first time Kyung saw it, he thinks he can grow to tolerate it. 

The black-haired boy sets everything down and produces a canvas from his armfuls of things and holds it upside down. Kyung might be mistaken, but in the dim light he thinks he sees Jiho’s face tinted red. Kyung grabs for the canvas, lips turned up in a teasing grin, “What is it?”

The sudden shyness that overcomes Jiho is so endearing, Kyung just wants to kiss his face. And he can, because Jiho is his boyfriend, so he does. He gets on his toes and eventually gives up grabbing for the canvas in favor of pressing his lips to Jiho’s cheeks, along where he’s blushing, and then his nose and his forehead too, though he can barely reach. Jiho intercepts and cups Kyung’s face, smiling but face still so very red. Kyung just puckers his lips, predicting the kiss that Jiho gives him next. 

“Okay, show me,” Kyung demands, pulling away to tug at Jiho’s hands again. The hesitance just barely subsides, but it’s enough to get Jiho to turn it around and bring it up to cover half his face. 

It’s the painting from the prior month of the field of flowers, of pretty yellow wheat-like grasses and warm specks of flowers, and the smudged fingerprints in the corner that obscure patches of the field. Jiho looks embarrassed but he says it anyway, “It’s us.” Somehow Kyung understands. 

They hang it up, though Kyung messes up four nails before Jiho convinces Kyung he should do it himself. The setting doesn’t do it justice, it’s too dark to really appreciate it, and it looks out of place in the bareness of the room, but it’s okay. It’s them. 

That moment is an interlude. It would be naive to think they could have blissful happiness for longer than just that, and even Kyung knows it deep down. But he’s gone for Jiho, it’s impossible to deny him anything and even more so to imagine leaving him. 

It’s only another two weeks before Jiho takes the step across a very well-defined line. He goes from petty school fights to something bigger than them. All it takes is one single deliberate step. 

After class on an uncomfortably warm Wednesday afternoon Kyung finds some of the boys waiting for him in the parking lot rather than Jiho. He hasn’t seen Jiho in about two days but he hasn’t bothered to go out of his way looking for him either. Yukwon drops his cigarette and grinds it into the ground with the toe of his shoe, offering a crooked smile as he greets, “Hey, Kyung. We got something to show you.” 

Kyung gets in the car mostly because he has no other choice than to, or at least that’s what he tells himself. Really, he’s curious about what they have to show him. No doubt there’s Jiho at the bottom of all this.

It feels like they drive pretty long but eventually Yukwon pulls up in front of an abandoned parking garage in a very desolate portion of the city. Kyung distantly thinks it’s funny the way everyone falls into an even pace around him. This must be how Jiho feels as he walks delicately at the center of their unspoken hierarchy. They’re like dogs. Or maybe chickens.

They lead him up one flight of stairs talking quietly but casually. That is, of course, no reassurance. These boys are so dimwitted they’d speak lightly during the gravest scenarios, this could easily be at a funeral and the joking would ensue as always. So, their quiet chatter now is no indication of whether or not Kyung is ready for what he’s supposed to see at the second floor.

“Kyungie”

That voice is the very sound of stupidity, Kyung decides. He’s really in love with an idiot. Kyung looks up to face his boyfriend without the same enthusiasm. Instead he is instantly accusing, “What did you do now?” 

Jiho ignores the question and goes on about something else, “I’ve missed you, why’d it take you so long to come here?” The older boy is wrapping his arms around Kyung even though Kyung stands stiff, arms glued to his sides. Face pressed into Jiho’s chest he replies flatly, “How was I supposed to find you?” Jiho ignores that too. The heat is stifling. 

Yukwon walks around and when Jiho lets go of Kyung, he notices Minhyuk standing a few feet away with the bat from the car incident held loosely in one hand. Kyung looks between the three and then back at Jaehyo and Taeil. Jihoon isn’t there, he realizes now.

Kyung settles on directing his frustration at Jiho, “What’s going on?” 

“We’re making a lot of progress,” Jiho answers, moving aside and jerking his thumb back to point at the far end of the lot. Slumped on the dirty ground a good distance away is another boy, his mouth stuffed unattractively with a rag. 

There’s a moment that Kyung thinks he’s hallucinating. This has to be some insane dream, or does that make it a nightmare? At this point he isn’t sure which. But he’s certain there’s no way he fell in love with a _boy_ , let alone one so insane and without inhibitions. Yet things continue to escalate without any indication of this ending in a way dreams should, with an irregularity that when noticed brings consciousness. He must already be conscious, then. 

“Jiho, what the hell?” His voice has gone up an octave and it comes out sounding like a squeak. Jiho tries to hold him but he’s already started scrabbling away to get to the unknown hostage. When Kyung breaks away and runs the short stretch to the seventh person, the rest of the boys slowly follow, far too relaxed.

Kyung drops to his knees to look up closely so he can see the stranger is one of Jiho’s classmates, but not one he properly recognizes, not even as someone who has mocked him in the past. There’s a little smudged blotch of red around the corner of his lips and it soaks the rag; Kyung is sure it must taste bad. His face is dirty and the the thin blindfold over his eyes probably doesn’t obscure his vision much. His hands are bound before him, wrists reddened and scraped. 

Watching closely and barely breathing, Kyung connects the dots in his head. He hadn’t thought much of Jiho’s recent absences yet now there seems to be significance to them. Kyung squeezes his eyes shut and groans inwardly, cursing himself for being stupid too. Eyes pressed shut tightly he asks through gritted teeth, “How long has he been here?” The hot, thick air feels suffocating. 

The boys leave an awkward silence as response, until someone finally clears their throat, Kyung isn’t sure who though. Jaehyo responds, sounding on edge too, “Since Monday?” Kyung brings his hands up and buries his face there, wishing he could just smother himself into not existing. 

After a short-lived break from witnessing all this, Kyung returns to it, opening his eyes and blinking quickly. To his left he hears the _tap tap tap_ of the baseball bat. The boys have started up talking about what’s next, about ransoms and revenge. Kyung feels...oddly light. Everything seems a pleasant blur if he just stares into the face of the boy before him. The boy with his mouth forced into a quiet scream. Just staring at him is like watching a reflection. This is dizziness.

“Let’s just drop him off the edge,” Minhyuk’s voice mixes into the blur of voices and images. Kyung shakes his head despite how off-balance he feels. Besides the numbness Kyung feels in his stiff shoulders and jaw, he gives a firm, “no”. 

Kyung feels a hand on his shoulder and Jiho’s voice follows it, “Babe, it’s fine. He’ll just break a bone or two and it’ll send the message through.” Kyung shakes his head again and the weight vanishes from his shoulder. And then from his sight the boy is gone.

They literally drag him across the ground and the guttural pleas that turn muffled and undecipherable by the rag fill the vacancies of the entire parking garage. Jiho’s voice snaps uselessly, “Stop your crying, fucking brat.” The demand scares Kyung too.

They draw it out unnecessarily long, which Kyung knows even though he doesn’t watch. He can tell by the pitiful sobbing and the occasional demand from Minhyuk or Yukwon that orders silence. He’s sure they must be dangling him off the edge of one wall, watching him flounder pointlessly in the air. 

Then there’s the voice growing distant at a very quick rate and Kyung is sure that must mean he’s been let go. 

“Quick, go get him,” Jiho is saying as he ushers Jaehyo and Taeil towards the stairs, he himself stopping by Kyung. In the background, there’s the discord of scrabbling footsteps as the younger boys race down to get to their victim first. 

Slowly Kyung looks up at Jiho. It’s the same boy he had played with on the beach all those months ago. He still has the soft face with rounded cheeks and a big nose and full, plush lips that turn to endearingly ugly smiles at any joke his friends tell him. Yet something has shifted in him, he’s grown desperate and it feels that his priorities are cruel self-harm being inflicted not only on himself, but on his boys too. This isn’t the start of a movement, this isn’t self-defense gone too far. It’s glorified monarchy and ambitions that grow as they are fed. 

“For us,” Jiho says as he smiles down at Kyung, offering a hand. Kyung takes it, holding firmly, and because he has decided to put all his faith and trust (and love) into Jiho, he agrees.

“For us.”


	7. Cosmodrome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _So, earlier fighting aside, it feels like a break from all their troubles. Jiho kisses Kyung as soon as he stumbles through the window and they hug for so long that Kyung thinks they might just be one person after it but they’re not._

Sobriety high, the boys had dropped off their hostage as discreetly as amateurs can at another seemingly abandoned location closer into the city. Kyung doesn’t bother asking how they’ve gotten so deep in this business and doesn’t wonder when they did either. He’s tired and wants to go home. And he’s scraped his knee. 

Kyung tugs at Jiho’s sleeve on their silent walk back to everyone’s cars. “I wanna go home,” He announces, staring up at Jiho, doe-eyed and still slightly pale. Minhyuk had said the sick queasiness would clear up as soon as they discarded of the boy, but it proved untrue when Kyung had stopped to vomit on the walk back. At least Jiho had rubbed his back soothingly after. That’s what boyfriends are for. 

The older boy puts his arm around Kyung and answers softly, “Yeah, okay, of course.” Kyung turns his face and presses up against Jiho, nuzzling into his side and accepting the warm embrace. He wobbles walking that way but Jiho doesn’t let him fall. 

Jiho and Kyung split off from the boys, at this point it’s a given that Kyung goes in Jiho’s car rather than the others’. Kyung rests his head against the window and watches Jiho. Insignificant little school fights were one thing, they could easily be repaired. But this was something bigger, this was adult work and although Jiho had, by legal terms, passed into the world of adults, Kyung had not. Not that that made Jiho any more qualified for this type of thing, at the end of the day they’re both still kids, young and vulnerable. And sure, Kyung is with him, but he’s not sure of what that entails.

The older boy must anticipate the questions already yet he still sighs when Kyung asks, “Why did you have to do that?” Kyung’s voice comes out small and sounding hurt, revealing all his concerns in the tone alone. Sure, this is for them, but what exactly is _this_. 

For a few moments Jiho avoids answering by pretending to concentrate on driving. Eventually he speaks, and for once it doesn’t sound defensive, “I’m sorry Kyung, but there were a lot of people getting your name and a lot of threats getting thrown around.” If this weren’t so serious, Kyung would roll his eyes and call Jiho stupid. Of course, people had gained interest in Kyung, it was all Jiho’s fault that they had, yet it seemed Jiho truly lacked understanding of that. 

“You might not recognize him but that boy’s from one of those little cliques of school boys that have a foot in outside gang shit.” Jiho notices Kyung’s growing discomfort and stops to add, “Don’t worry, just little things. Nothing big, just gangs made up of a bunch of bored kids doing things that aren’t really so bad.” Is that what they are too, then? Is kidnapping one of those things that aren’t really so bad?

When Kyung doesn’t speak, Jiho becomes nervous. He stammers, obviously struggling to find more to say that could fix the reaction he’s triggered in Kyung. Ignoring the stuttering, Kyung interjects, “Stop the car, please. Please Jiho, stop the car.” He misses the desperation in his own voice, but it is unmistakably there. Jiho steps on the brake a little too fast.

Pushing the door open in a frantic hurry, Kyung practically collapses on the ground and ends up dry heaving. His vision goes bleary as his eyes water and everything seems to go out of focus. After, his throat feels raw and sore and he barely realizes that Jiho is by him. He remains there, staring at the ground and trying to establish his sanity. 

_For us. For us. For us._

Jiho tries to comfort Kyung, but the efforts are a loss when Jiho is also the cause of the breakdown. Kyung shrugs him off and tries to crawl away, his scraped knee dragging unpleasantly against ground. Jiho looks hurt by Kyung’s rejection, but it doesn’t really matter. The younger boy is indifferent to that right now, mostly because he can’t tell, considering he’s still caught in a constraining phase of shock.

For a few moments Kyung just breathes heavy and goes between burying his face in his hands and looking up at the sky. Somewhere between the two he ends up settling for looking at Jiho. 

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” 

He lets Jiho help him up and he gets back in car without another word. Jiho seems afraid to prompt for any explanations. When he resumes driving, he goes slow and throws frequent glances towards Kyung.

It’s quiet for some time, and for once Kyung takes the silence as a time to clear his head rather than embrace topics that need to be pondered. About five minutes pass when Kyung speaks again, head pressed against the cool glass of the window, “What was that place we left him at?” Jiho looks over and frowns, eyebrows knitted in worry. Or maybe he’s feeling guilty. 

“It’s where his boys hang out most of the time, they’ll pick him up quick, they frequent the place.” Kyung absolutely hates that Jiho knows all this. He’s quiet the rest of the short drive back to his neighborhood. 

Jiho stops the car but Kyung knows to stay sitting. He knows Jiho has things to say, things he’s been thinking over the entire drive. So, Kyung waits, expectations low. 

“Kyungie, don’t worry,” He says, leaning over to look at Kyung more closely. Kyung snorts and looks at him flatly, crossing his arms. “How do I not worry when you’re out there trying to ruin everything?” Jiho looks taken aback.

“Ruin everything? I’m just taking care of us, of you,” He argues, tone still gentle, as he reaches for Kyung’s hand. Kyung lets him take hold of his hand but barely acknowledges it. Instead he responds bitterly, “Everything _is_ ruined if you end up dead. Jiho, I won’t know what to do without you.” Saying out loud makes it more real, in his head these concerns always feel like the product of overthinking. He never really acknowledged how hopeless he’d feel if Jiho were to disappear from his life. 

Jiho’s expression softens and he cups Kyung’s face with his free hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll be careful, for you,” He promises, reaching over to just barely get close enough for a kiss to Kyung’s forehead. Kyung closes his eyes, relishes in the soft, caring touches. He practically melts into the gentle caresses. 

He wants to cry, it hurts so much to love Jiho. He wishes he didn’t love Jiho, but he does, he wants to give everything he has to Jiho. Thinking like that makes him feel that he’s simply not strong enough to love Jiho. That makes him miserable, too. Even if Jiho deserves someone else, someone less cowardly and less conflicted, Kyung wants to be with Jiho. 

After all this, despite the way Jiho makes him hurt, he loves Jiho so much. If only he didn’t, if only he were _normal_. But instead he’s caught up in this desperation to be with Jiho, even if things are overwhelming. With circumstances turning out of hand and the future daunting, Kyung still accepts Jiho’s promises.

“I’ll trust you,” Kyung pledges, lacing his fingers with Jiho’s and leans forward too, happy that Jiho closes the gap to kiss him. So far, they’ve made it through relatively safe, the future can’t be much different? He’s been promising a lot to Jiho lately. But the argument is so compelling: For us. 

It’s only around 7 o'clock when Kyung gets home. His mom asks where he’s been for the past four hours since school had ended and he mechanically picks the name of a club off his go-to list of lies. Today was math club, apparently. Then he’s up the stairs and out of sight. 

Kyung busies himself in homework but still ends up with free time even before his sister is calling him down for dinner. Afterwards he returns to his room just as clueless about what to do now as he had been before. He makes a mental note to figure out some real hobby to go with all the fake ones he’s made up for his parents lately. Being Jiho’s boyfriend is, thankfully, not also a full-time membership to the boys’ reckless endeavors. Part-time involvement is stressful as it is, Kyung can’t imagine being a constant part of whatever it is they get up to. At least they had had the decency to leave the younger two, himself and Jihoon, out of it to some extent.

Kyung is going through a box of old cassettes when there’s tapping at his window. He glances back to make sure the bedroom door is shut before opening the window to look down and see Jiho. The older boy doesn’t come by often as it’s very risky to hang around Kyung’s house, especially when his entire family are present. 

Time apart has Kyung convinced that past arguments are resolved. So, earlier fighting aside, it feels like a break from all their troubles. Jiho kisses Kyung as soon as he stumbles through the window and they hug for so long that Kyung thinks they might just be one person after it but they’re not. When they’ve detangled themselves, Kyung just smiles really big at him, all teeth and gums and happiness. 

“I’ve been really worried about you,” Jiho confesses, holding onto both of Kyung’s hands and looking down at him just as lovingly. Kyung nods slowly and gets on his toes to kiss Jiho again. “I miss you a lot, lately,” Kyung says, and after they stand for a few more minutes like that, but somehow, it’s not at all awkward. 

Kyung tugs Jiho over to help him sort through the old collection of music, but the first thing Jiho has to say is, “This is it?” Kyung shoves Jiho playfully but nods anyway. “I wasn’t so into music until you,” He confesses, watching how Jiho sifts through cassettes with his mouth hanging open just slightly. 

“You can have whatever you want from my stuff, you know,” Jiho answers, looking at a few cassettes more closely than others. “Actually, forget that, I’ll just make you a mix.” Kyung giggles and Jiho doesn’t have to know but he’s already looking forward to it. Kyung already knows he’ll listen to it always. 

Jiho stays around for a long time, and thankfully no one interrupts them, though they leave the window ajar in case there’s the need for Jiho to scramble out in a hurry. It’s getting late when Kyung gets up and locks his door, despite his parents despising when he does so due to their assumptions that closed and locked doors must mean secrets. And in this case, they’re not entirely wrong.

Settling on the floor by Jiho again, Kyung tugs at his arm and says, “Don’t go home yet, okay?” Jiho leans back against the edge of the bed and answers with a teasing grin, “Goody two shoes getting brave, huh?” Kyung laughs and rolls his eyes, though he knows it’s true. 

It’s around eleven, Jiho slumped against Kyung’s shoulder, just listening to Kyung talk about his week. He nods occasionally, mumbling inaudible responses because he wants Kyung to know he’s listening. Kyung feels kind of tired too, so he pats Jiho’s leg and offers, “You wanna just lie down?” Jiho smiles softly and nods, taking Kyung’s hand. They’ve come pretty far. 

For a while they keep talking. Jiho talks about unachievable aspirations, things that don’t correlate with his background. Kyung reaches out to play with Jiho’s hair while he talks and Jiho pays no attention to it besides the way his lips turn up in a slight smile. Kyung likes watches him lie there, talking, with his cheek squished against the pillow and his eyes half shut, pretty straight black lashes notable this close. 

When there’s a lull in the conversation, Kyung prompts, “Tell me about your ex-boyfriend.” He’s not sure why he asks, it seems like a risky conversation topic, especially when they’re just barely holding together as it is. But right now, Jiho seems so bare and without inhibition, honestly sharing anything that comes to mind. It seems like the best time to learn about Jiho. 

The boy thinks for a brief moment during which Kyung fears Jiho will end up closing off again. However, he’s pleasantly surprised when Jiho starts talking. 

“I already told you he was older than me. And he was taller, back then I was a lot smaller…” Jiho trails off, as if not able to recollect any memories of what the other man was like. After a pause he starts again, hesitant now, “Honestly, he was pretty hot, I think. I was so caught up in thinking he was out of my league.” Hearing that, Kyung is torn between feeling jealous (because he is definitely not an older hot boy) and telling Jiho that there’s no way this man could have been out of his league (because Kyung thinks Jiho is very hot, too). Kyung settles for silence and a nod instead.

“But what does it matter? He ended up being an asshole,” Jiho concludes, though he doesn’t look as unbothered as he tries to sound. 

Kyung frowns. He takes Jiho’s hand, plays with his fingers nervously before intertwining their fingers. He still wants to know more. “Do you have siblings?” 

Jiho nods, “An older brother. I haven’t seen him since I moved out though.” Strangely, Kyung can’t imagine what Jiho’s brother could be like. In fact, he can’t imagine Jiho’s place in a family at all. He’s never spoken about them without being specifically asked, unlike how most people mention their families in casual. It feels like they just don’t exist.

“Won’t you ever see him? Or is he like your parents too?” Kyung knows he’s treading on unsafe ground, but he needs to know. 

“I dunno, Kyung. He probably already moved out, I’d have no idea where he’s gone or how he’d feel about you.” The answer seems very definite. Kyung doesn’t like how hopeless that conclusion is. As he grows and the semester comes to a close, it feels that aspirations are dying and potentials for the future are closing off. Maybe he’ll be like Jiho very soon too. 

While Kyung is busy thinking about all the pressures of growing up, and how they could alter him, Jiho interrupts the silence. “I’m sorry.”

Kyung looks up, brows furrowed. He doesn’t understand. 

“I know you didn’t ask for any of this,” Jiho clarifies. The younger boy nods then, knowing now that Jiho means everything. He’s referring to their meeting, to becoming part of his group, to their falling in love and to this reckless behavior. 

The younger boy rubs at his eyes and yawns. “Let me hold you,” he says instead of answering Jiho’s apology. Jiho doesn’t object, just shuffles around and turns so Kyung can wrap his arms around him and bury his face in Jiho’s neck. He hears Jiho mumble, “You know I have to leave.” Kyung nods against him, wishing that weren’t true. 

_I know you didn’t ask for any of this_. The words echo in Kyung’s mind as he absentmindedly traces circles across Jiho’s arm with his finger. Is that entirely true? Kyung is shamefully aware that if he thinks back far enough, he can recall a moment in life where he had desired more excitement than what had been his current, stable, healthy lifestyle. He did ask for this, and it’s sucking the life out of him. But it’s worth it because the high of rebellion is addictive, or maybe it’s just Jiho who is addictive. Either way, Kyung will do anything to get his fix. 

He wonders what Jiho is thinking of right now. He’ll never know. Kyung holds on until he falls asleep and, in the morning, Jiho is gone, but he expected nothing different. 

 

It’s mid-March and Jiho has dyed his hair a striking blond. The first time Kyung sees it is when he goes to meet the other boys after school at one of their usual diners. It’s a big change, even styled differently now, slicked back and not so long anymore. It makes him look different, maybe even older. 

Eyeing it warily, all Kyung asks is, “Why’d you dye it?” 

Jiho shrugs and puts an arm around him. “Wanted a change,” He says, and Kyung leaves it at that, though he wishes all the changes would stop. It’s not really a big deal, yet he feels it reflects on the overall larger shifts that have nuanced their relationship. 

When they order, Kyung says he’s not really all that hungry but ends up stealing fries off of Jiho’s plate afterwards anyway. Jihoon lists movies that he’s wanted to see, the other boys interrupting occasionally to express their enthusiasm to see the film or to argue the opposite way. Most of the movies they won’t get to seeing anyway, but it’s something to talk about. At some point someone spills a bottle of soda and there’s a commotion of apologies to the waitress as the boys are scrambling to wipe up the drink with too few napkins. 

When everyone’s settled down again, Taeil remembers something. “Hey, right. There’s a party Saturday, you guys down?” There’s immediate agreeing and although Kyung says nothing, they assume his attendance and they’re not wrong. 

Kyung’s parents are out for dinner on the night of the party, so Kyung resorts to sneaking out. He’s halfway down the hall, pulling a flannel over his shoulders when his sister calls out to him, “Kyung, where are you going?” He freezes and sighs heavy, trying to think of what to say. He knows his parents won’t like his going out to a party, not when he’s already gone so frequently doing other things with friends. 

He turns to answer but she interrupts him, “I know you’ve been lying.” When Kyung faces her fully, he’s taken aback by the concern written across her face. She frowns at him and wrings her hands nervously, waiting for some indication of what’s really going on. 

The way she’s watching him expectantly has Kyung at a loss for words. He had never imagined a scenario like this before so he has nothing prepared in response. 

“Please, Kyung. Is something wrong?” Her questions come across as something different than his parents’. Is it real concern? He’s tempted to confess to her, but he’s unsure where she stands, if she will tell their parents. So, instead he shakes his head lightly and bites his lip, wishing he could convey how sorry he is for putting not only her, but the entire family, through this. Unfortunately, he loves Jiho too much to give them anything more than vague apologies and elaborate lies. 

Kyung begins to turn again, but maintains eye contact as he pleas, “I’m going out with some friends. Please don’t tell Mom or Dad.” For some reason, when she nods, he only feels sadder. Guiltier. 

And then he’s out the door, leaving her standing there in the house that they’ve both grown up in but only he has outgrown. 

The short walk to the curb has the bad feelings dispelled, cool air soothing and the openness of the street calming. He sees Jiho waiting with his hands stuffed in the pockets of a denim jacket that is equally as worn as the usual leather one he wears. It’s dark and lonely out so Kyung takes his boyfriend’s hand, confident that no one will know.

The party is a mess from that start. It’s rambunctious and loud, extending out onto the front doorstep too. Bright light floods the rooms and bleeds out the open windows and doors, followed by loud chatter and laughs. A collection of mostly empty beer bottles litter every empty space on the coffee table, and the kitchen counter too. Kyung follows Jiho closely, flinching when they pass by the stereo, music blaring unexpectedly loud by his ear. 

“Where are the other boys,” Kyung half yells to Jiho, who answers with a nod that’s more in response to the beat of the music than it is to Kyung’s question. Kyung holds onto his hand again, assuming that no one’s aware enough to really notice or care that their hands are clasped together. Right now, it’s more important not to get lost, he’s not letting go this time. 

Jiho weaves them through messily dancing teenagers and already trashed spaces until they find the others surrounding a collection of alcohol that they’ve accumulated. Kyung isn’t surprised, just lets go of Jiho’s hand to sit down in whatever small empty space he can find on the couch that they’ve all crammed on to and around. 

Jihoon is already downing a bottle of beer, surrounded by laughter and cheering from not only his own boys, but several other friends that Kyung doesn’t know personally. Amidst the chanting, Taeil offers a cup and Kyung unquestioningly accepts it. He doesn’t drink it at first, just holds on to it and watches everyone else drink. Jiho doesn’t seem so involved either, but he’s always had the tendency to be quieter in nature around crowds, often enjoying things through watching and commenting rather than participating. 

Taeil catches Kyung watching him and laughs, leaning over and nearly spilling some of his drink. “He’s a lightweight, if he starts drinking now at the rate Jihoon’s at, the party’s over quick for him” Taeil laughs, and Jaehyo overhears so he ends up snickering too. Kyung gives a grin, switching his cup over into his other hand. 

Jaehyo puts an arm over Taeil’s shoulder and looks over to ask, “You’re not gonna drink it?” Kyung looks down at the drink then up at them. Everyone’s loosened up, either dancing or standing around talking too loudly to compensate for what the music drowns out. Kyung shrugs, “No, yeah. I’m gonna drink it.” And then he’s downing it faster than he realizes how bad it tastes and how it burns. 

When he sputters and coughs on the liquid, Taeil and Jaehyo are instantly laughing, though Taeil pats at Kyung’s back. He smiles despite it, giving a thumbs up in an attempt to fake his enjoying the drink. They see it as the queue to pass him another, which he hangs on to for another while before downing it too. After a beer, he’s not as bothered by the weird tastes, and the attention that other’s shower him in for drinking gets him excited enough to keep going even once Taeil and Jaehyo have given it up. He’s quite small so when the effects hit him they get him pretty good.

Feeling off balance and craving his favorite attention, Kyung seeks out Jiho’s arms. He lifts himself from the sofa to first nearly fall down, then to bother Jiho. The others are all busy in conversation and Jiho isn’t so involved, so he takes Kyung’s hand and bends down to meet Kyung at eye level. It’s too loud to hear and thankfully Jiho doesn’t bother saying anything. The older boy’s lips curl in a close-mouthed smile that comes across as a secret to Kyung, one that he doesn’t understand but is excited about anyway. Kyung thinks he looks so handsome, his eyes striking and sharp, bleach-blond hair harsh and prim. He wants to drag his fingers across Jiho’s back, feel across his broad shoulders, let his hands run across his chest. 

They push through a crowd and knock over a chair on their way. Kyung feels pleasantly loose, everything but Jiho easily becoming a blur if he directs his focus on the boy alone. Jiho finds them some space in the living room among masses of other teenagers to dance and Kyung isn’t really sure what he’s doing but at least he feels light and carefree. He wants to kiss Jiho but somewhere distantly in his mind remembers that that’s not allowed. That makes him sad.

Kyung picks up another cup at some point, but he’s not sure where he got it from. Jiho tugs it from his hand but Kyung refuses, “It’s mine.” Jiho laughs and tries to take it again saying, “No it’s not, you just found it sitting around.” Kyung doesn’t remember that part so clearly, but he’s sure that that is probably what happened. He still holds on to the drink tightly and pulls just as Jiho loosens his grip to give up, causing his hand to jerk away and tip the drink over his own face and shirt. 

“Oh no,” Kyung mumbles, dropping the cup entirely to touch the wet front of his shirt instead. Jiho giggles and tips his head, taking Kyung’s hand.

“It’s okay, let’s clean up,” Jiho offers, tugging his boyfriend along already. Kyung doesn’t object, just throws a last forlorn glance at the cup that he had dropped. 

Jiho pushes the bathroom door open and pulls Kyung with him, earning a disgusted glance from a couple people lingering in the hall. The door clicks shut and Kyung locks it while Jiho turns the faucet on. Now that they’re here, it seems kind of pointless, considering the most Kyung can do is wash his face. Jiho reaches past Kyung to turn the water off and Kyung takes the new position as an opportunity to lean forward and kiss Jiho.

It’s teasing and light hearted at first, but when Jiho pulls away to leave, Kyung drags him back by the front of his shirt for another kiss. Kyung’s hands drag down his chest and pull him close and their kissing turns frantic and dirty.  
Tipsy himself, Jiho is quick to get lost in the sensations, savoring the way Kyung touches him in unsure, _new_ ways. 

There’s liberation in the way the alcohol has Kyung feeling. Right now, it’s as if consequences are nonexistent, as if it’s just them. He had missed the judgmental glares of people earlier and he’s unaware of any opposition that could arise later. He’s even lost sight of how he himself might feel about this later. He’s obtained new found courage and in the face of it nothing else matters. And, as a bonus, this feels really good. 

Kyung pushes Jiho up against the wall and Jiho lets the younger boy do so, smiling into the kiss he receives. In this position, Kyung has more control, so with inexperienced movements he gives into desire and does whatever feels right. It’s mostly Kyung feeling Jiho up, hands touching and grabbing as he bites at the older boy’s neck then shoulder only to return to his lips to kiss hurriedly. Jiho reveals apprehension still, more aware of the sudden change in Kyung’s eagerness. On any other day, Kyung would shrink away at just the thought of this much physical contact. 

The younger boy presses up against his boyfriend, and when he rolls his hips forward the friction feels _so good_. Mouth falling open, he gasps a small, “Oh,” as if just learning what feeling good in this way is, and that Jiho can be the one to make him feel this way. 

“Fuck,” Jiho breathes, pushing Kyung away in panic now. The rejection has Kyung hurt, and he looks up at Jiho with big eyes and a subtle pout that has Jiho feeling guilty. “Jiho, please,” the younger whimpers, a sound that makes Jiho groan, almost wishing he were equally as drunk and willing to let things escalate. But he’s not, he’s certain that if things go any further, Kyung will feel horrible about his choices tomorrow morning. 

A little breathless, Jiho shakes his head and holds Kyung’s shoulder, as if grounding him. “I’m not going to touch you, Kyung. You’re drunk. You don’t want this,” He tries explaining, but Kyung stays resolute in his certainty that he wants this now, so he must be okay with it later too. 

“Kyung, stop this, I’m taking you home,” Jiho decides, pulling Kyung along but the younger boy resists. Jiho looks back at him and just stares, at a loss for words that could persuade him to move. He’s not even sure where to take Kyung without getting him in trouble. 

Tired of the senseless arguing, Jiho lifts Kyung, who is conveniently light, and sits him on the counter as form of intermission. Kyung blinks up at him slowly, mouth slightly agape and fingers playing with the corner of Jiho’s shirt. Anything Kyung says, Jiho essentially ignores, and when someone starts knocking at the bathroom door Jiho groans and kicks the door back before reluctantly pulling Kyung along to leave.

They both look messy, lips puffy and Jiho’s clothes in disarray. It earns them judging stares that shoot words of disgust and abhorrence. For once Kyung doesn’t mind, he just tumbles along, Jiho practically dragging him outside. Once they’re out on the front porch, Jiho turns Kyung and holds him by his shoulders to maintain his full attention. “Where do I take you? Are your parents home?”

Kyung tries to look away from Jiho because something catches his attention in the corner of his eye, but Jiho forces him to stay focused. Belatedly the younger mumbles in answer, “No, I’ll go home.” 

No one is downstairs and Kyung’s parents haven’t even gotten home yet, so Kyung plans to gets to his room unquestioned. If only his sister hadn’t noticed the noisy entrance and peered out of her room to witness Kyung’s drunk fumbling to lock the door behind him. He’s suddenly tired and his shirt has only just barely dried. 

“Kyung?”

He glances back at her and frowns. She’s wearing that same expression of worry that he had left her with. He can tell she’s looking for something to say, or rather, deciding where to start asking. 

“Kyung, are you okay?” She approaches him slowly and up close must see the little changes that have claimed him since he started dating Jiho. Minor alterations in who he is that even he hasn’t noticed, but she must see it in his face, because she shakes and looks as if she almost wants to touch his face to confirm that it’s real. Something stops her. 

The past few months have been really hard. Looking at his sister, he feels a sharp pang of grief for what he’s left behind, something he had never expected to experience. Not once has he felt remorse for what he’s given up, only fear, but now this hurts too. Standing here, she has become the embodiment of how his two lives merge and clash and tear him apart in the center of it all. His head feels so heavy and he’s not sure if it's the alcohol or the burden of the past few months crashing down on him.

“Kyung,” she repeats and then he is suddenly crying. There’s a type of composure in how she reacts that would have impressed him if he weren’t so busy wiping at tears. Amidst his sobbing he hears her prompt again, voice unwavering but thick with concern, “What’s going on?”

For a moment he has her face in focus, he sees round brown eyes staring at him with the fierce protectiveness of familial love. “I can’t tell you, I can’t tell you,” He cries, gripping her arm for a moment as if it could bring him back to reality. She opens her mouth to say something but Kyung is already pushing past her to go to his room. 

He sleeps late into the next day. When he awakes, placed neatly at his nightstand is a glass of water. 

 

Monday comes and Jiho catches Kyung at his locker between classes. Whispers follow Jiho as he approaches and eyes hurry to watch the pair talk. Jiho ignores it and Kyung does too, even though it bugs him. He tries to concentrate on Jiho’s words instead.

“We need to talk,” the blond-haired boy says, watching Kyung lift books out of the locker. The younger boy raises an eyebrow, the irony humorous in a sad way. Shutting his locker Kyung responds sharply, “Now you want to talk?” Jiho frowns, opening his mouth to say something but then shutting it. Kyung grins. It feels good to shut Jiho up. 

Honestly, Kyung has been dreading the conversation. He had hoped they’d pretend what had happened Saturday night would be mutually forgotten, but even he remembers it despite his having been considerably drunk. Still, Jiho didn’t have to bring it up. 

Kyung assumes that’s the end of the conversation and turns to leave, but Jiho grabs his wrist (a little too tight). “Look, we can’t be like this forever, I can’t keep guessing and assuming what you want,” Jiho says, getting at Kyung’s actions from the party. The younger boy really doesn’t want to think about it. “I have to know what you’re okay with,” Jiho adds, stubbornly holding on.

Irritated, Kyung snorts and rolls his eyes. “Oh, suddenly you want to listen? I thought you didn’t care about what I’m okay with,” He snaps back, trying and failing to tear his arm away. He hadn’t even realized this sentiment existed in him, that he had grown so bitter over time. 

Jiho stares with narrowed eyes, oblivious to the growing attention they’re drawing. When he speaks his voice is level, which is a blessing, because if Jiho were to raise his voice at Kyung now, he’d start bawling for sure. Still, the harsh edge to his words and the accusative tone hurt. 

“You’re fucking gay, Kyung. You think you can just pretend that you’re not? You can’t do the shit you do then go back to pretending so that they like you.” Kyung shrinks away. He’s the one struggling to find words now. 

“All you ever want to talk about is how I’m going to ruin your reputation because I’m gay, but guess what, Kyung? You’re gay too, you’re the fucking same.” 

Kyung pulls away again and Jiho let’s go unexpectedly, sending him nearly falling. The older boy’s words sting and bite at Kyung, these are the type of words that might eat away at him when he’s alone. He feels so much smaller than Jiho now, and the way the older boy’s words hurt is indescribable. There’s panic at the boldness of his words and sickness at the fear of the truth and the cruel burn of hearing his lover speak so viciously. 

They’re at a stalemate, both strained by their own insecurities. Kyung tries to trace the lines of their relationship back, find where this venomous anger had instilled itself, but he can’t pinpoint any single moment. Perhaps it has always been there, as constant as the internalized hate that Kyung has grown up with. Maybe it snuck in with the fears Jiho grew, fears of never being enough for Kyung. What’s worse is that they’re speaking two entirely different conversations and neither will progress anywhere. 

Kyung looks at the ground and bites his lip. Jiho reaches out again and Kyung flinches, moving away. 

“I’m sorry, Kyung.” 

Kyung doesn’t answer, just looks back at Jiho. He’s going to miss class because of this. Everything has been turning sour lately. It’s as if they’re running their relationship into the ground over insignificant details. If both of them would just let go of their obsessions with how they were being perceived by outsiders, they’d be okay. But instead they’ve brought new tensions to their love, both pulling between creating a space that accepts them and hiding from one that doesn’t. 

Ignoring the apology, Kyung finds his voice, even though it’s wavering, and says, “You keep saying this is for us, but it’s stupid.” He hates that regardless of how insane, Kyung will still do whatever Jiho wants. Because he’s said it too, this is for them, and even if he has no idea what that means, he’ll stick with Jiho. He picked this fight months ago. Onlookers vanish as classes resume. He’s missing class for this.

Jiho doesn’t respond, just lets Kyung keep talking. “It’s stupid and what if it keeps getting worse?” 

The push and pull of their relationship only seems to grow worse by the day. Maybe if Jiho weren’t so stubborn and so illogical they wouldn’t have let this conversation arrive to this topic. It feels like Kyung has chosen the worst possible person to love and he’s so tangled in it that he can’t find a way out. 

“It won’t,” Jiho answers, reaching for Kyung’s hand again. Kyung gives in and lets him hold his hand. He’s promised so much to Jiho already. He’s not even sure why he bothered arguing with Jiho, there was no feasible solution. They’re wasting time and wearing love thin for no reason. 

Considering that, Kyung nods and hugs Jiho, more to comfort himself than for Jiho’s sake. He just loves Jiho so much and he’s not sure when these feelings overtook him but it’s horrid. 

This time Jiho doesn’t have to tell him. He says it to himself, lets the sentiment root itself within his mind, _this is for us_ , 

When Kyung gets out of his last class, Jiho is waiting for him. They share a milkshake at a new place because it’s small and practically unknown, so no one will be there to mind that they’ve got one drink for the two of them. Kyung doesn’t talk a lot but he ends up laughing at the things Jiho has to say. It’s as if they never argued. As if they haven’t been arguing for so long, so frequently. When Jiho finishes paying and catches up to Kyung at the door, Kyung tells him, “Take me to the library, I need a few books.” 

Jiho hasn’t been in a while, Kyung can tell by the way he gets hung up on looking through entire aisles, naming titles he wishes he could have. “Just borrow them,” Kyung answers distractedly, but Jiho says something about never having the time to return them. 

Kyung leaves with a couple books that he doesn’t let Jiho get a look at and leaves them in the car’s trunk. 

As Jiho starts up the car he asks, “I got work, should I drop you home?” Kyung watches the world slowly begin to move outside the window. The faded, worn out colors are home but home never felt so small and constricting until he met Jiho. They need places new that have space for who they are. Still preoccupied in other thoughts, Kyung mumbles back, “No, I’ll come with you.” 

Jiho works at a local auto-repair shop that’s established itself pretty well in the neighborhood. There’s a good, relaxed banter going on between all the people working there and a lot of the clients are regulars. Jiho is good with his work and he’s a favorite of clients, Kyung can tell. He naturally chatters away with new and old people, shouting welcomes and offering his input on their confusing car problems. This seems like a good outlet for all the energy Jiho has got. It seems like a nice little thing he has going.

Kyung watches Jiho wash cars and hand out advice that he’s picked up along the way, and when someone from the shop asks him to come into the garage and help change parts, he does that too. Kyung follows him in, looking a lot like a lost dog. No one really asks why he’s quietly hanging around, they don’t even throw so much as a glance in his direction. Kyung doesn’t mind that, he’s more interested in watching Jiho than talking to anybody. Jiho looks good with his jacket gone and fingers blackened from grease, similar splotches across his arms and even his face. 

It’s getting later and Jiho was supposed to leave thirty minutes ago, but a customer who had left their car needs it fixed and clean the following morning. Kyung watches for a while, then gets rid of his blazer to come by and help wash. The shop’s owner waits and watches them from inside the garage. He’s the only one left, all the others who work there had gone home. 

As if their earlier argument were lifetimes away, they play and laugh while working. Jiho playfully tosses water at Kyung who takes that as a challenge and empties the remains of a bucket on the other boy. It’s fun even if it starts to get a little cold, purposely bumping into one another and messing around. When Jiho is concentrated on washing off dirt from the hood of the car, Kyung leans across to kiss him. Jiho grabs him by the hips, eliciting a shriek of laughter from Kyung, and pulls him closer so he can kiss Kyung better. It feels like it’s just them, everything else falling away. 

When Jiho gets back to his employer to explain that he’s done cleaning, he stands there extra-long talking. His boss looks unhappy, even raises his voice at some point, but it’s still unclear what he’s saying. Jiho’s expression turns solemn awfully quick, and then he’s walking back to Kyung with his hands in stuffed his pockets.

There’s a question ready to be asked but Jiho gets to answering it first, “He fired me.” 

For the first time, Kyung feels angry about it. He wants to go back and yell at that man for taking something like this away from Jiho. Jiho was good at his job and he needed it too but most of all it hurts because it’s unfair. If any other kid had shown up with a girlfriend it wouldn’t have mattered. Kyung looks at Jiho and can tell he’s hurt. Not angry, not revenge-seeking and eager to right things. Just sad. 

It’s early April and Jiho drops out of school, just two months away from graduating.


	8. Moon Tides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“I’ll take care of you,” Kyung promises with a forced smile, taking an almost cruel pleasure in being able to repeat those words to Jiho. The irony is satisfying. And then he puts himself at Jiho’s level, settling on the asphalt beside him, and placing his hands over Jiho’s so that his fingers can tint red too._

The linear progression of time is remembered as less than such. If it were that easy to trace the continuation of their descent, maybe Kyung would have noticed the signs earlier. 

Several days get by without Kyung seeing Jiho. He’s lonelier than he is worried. Yukwon and Minhyuk had taken him out to watch another race only yesterday. If Yukwon and Minhyuk were out of trouble, and the others were still in school, then there couldn’t be much room left for Jiho to be getting reckless. 

The time away from Jiho hasn’t been necessarily bad, even if Kyung thinks it has been. He’s busied himself on catching up with school and becoming an actual participant in what has been going on at math club. That, and he’s studied his previously acquired library books well, tracing anatomical diagrams with his fingers and picking up a genuine interest in this new hobby. 

When Kyung sees the other boys at lunch he lets them talk about whatever they want for a while, the nagging interest in finding his boyfriend inhibiting him from paying attention enough to seem involved. Kyung stares blankly past them occasionally, but for the most part feigns fixation on his food, as if it required so much focus. Taeil kicks Kyung’s leg under the table, earning his attention finally, though it comes in the form of an annoyed “What?” 

Taeil rolls his eyes and asks, “What’re you so busy thinking about?” 

Kyung knows he doesn’t really have right to be bothered by them, even if Taeil did just kick him. He’s been blowing them off pretty much all week. Even though he’s been here to eat with them consistently, he’s essentially mute. And beyond that he’s abandoned going places with them for the most part, too caught up in other thoughts. If they knew he had accepted going for a race with the older boys the other day, they’d probably kick him again. 

Kyung is about to answer but Jihoon takes the initiative to speak for him, “He’s probably missing his boyfriend.” Jaehyo gives a snort of laughter and shakes his head. 

“He’s gotta get used to being without him eventually, there’s still two months,” Taeil tuts, taking Jaehyo’s preoccupation as a chance to steal food off of his tray. Watching Jaehyo swat at Taeil’s hand, Kyung raises an eyebrow and asks, “What do you mean two months?” 

Something clicks and for a brief second everyone is speechless. The other boys have met some realization, but they’re failure to announce exactly what that is, is frustrating to Kyung. He feels out of the loop, which is unfair, he thinks. Jiho is his boyfriend, even if he was their friend longer. 

“Don’t you know? Jiho dropped out of school.” 

The fact that Kyung hears about Jiho’s choice to drop out through the boys rather than directly only adds insult to injury. Struggling to maintain composure, he nods very slowly in an attempt to buy some time before they demand a better reaction from him. 

Jaehyo tilts his head and the amusement has left his expression. “He didn’t tell you, did he?” Kyung shakes his head and looks down, wringing his hands. He still catches Jihoon whisper something to Taeil, and the way Taeil rolls his eyes and mutters, “For fucks sake...Jiho,” makes the secrecy of Jiho’s having dropped out hurt more.

Kyung is alone after school, as he has been for days now. For the prior days it hadn’t felt significant, Jiho wasn’t obligated to walk him around when he was busy. But now with the knowledge that Jiho has covertly dropped out of school, it feels a lot like abandonment. It feels like he’s been deceived or lied to. 

He doesn’t walk in the direction of home. Spring is in full and the way long green grasses loom over sidewalks makes him want to veer off the pavement and form uneven tracks through it. He thinks of getting lost in the soft green of it and never coming back. Maybe he could bring Jiho and they could hold hands so that way they’d never lose one another, even if they would never see the gray of the sidewalk ever again. 

Kyung watches rounded white clouds overhead and the way they sit like soft dough on sheets of blue surprisingly calms him. When he gets to Jiho’s street, he stops and watches the clouds for a long time. They move languidly, so slow that by just watching them he’d never know if time had passed at all. 

When he knocks on Jiho’s door, there’s a long pause. The shabby gray of the apartment is more disgusting now with thoughts of vivid blue and stark white clouds in mind. The door opens to more gray and a Jiho in shorts and a tee shirt too big. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jiho takes him inside. Being surrounded in the dingy yellow light of the apartment pushes Kyung’s irritability further, and all thoughts of the gentle blue sky behind him vanish. 

Kyung sits at the couch and watches Jiho sit beside him, pulls away when the older boy tries to put an arm around him. Jiho hasn’t answered yet, so Kyung demands from him bluntly, “Answers.”

“I didn’t think it was important,” the faux blond says, shrugging. The way he averts his eyes says otherwise; it was surely a crucial decision and one that Jiho knew Kyung would not approve of. Kyung tries to swallow the annoyance swelling in him, but it’s hard to suppress ill feelings for so long. He’s been letting things slide for a long time, the least Jiho can do is be straightforward with him.

Kyung grabs his boyfriend’s arm and leans forward to stare at his face intently, watching the uncertainty twist Jiho’s expression. 

Under the younger boy’s expectant gaze, Jiho cracks. “I didn’t know how to tell you,” Jiho confesses, shaking Kyung’s away to hold his hands instead. Kyung’s fingers fit perfectly between Jiho’s, slotting naturally against the older boy. It feels like lifetimes they’ve been together, but Kyung wants eternities. 

The anger dissipates and Kyung’s head drops as if a weight had been placed on his shoulders. Jiho stays silent, but Kyung can feel his thumb nervously drawing lines against his hand. 

“What’re you going to do now?” Jiho is just closing off all potential for a future, but it seems impossible for Kyung to convey that. For kids like Kyung, who have had their entire lives revolve around academics, family, and the overall image portrayed to society, it’s hard to understand Jiho. There’s still so much distance to close between himself and Jiho. 

Jiho leans back and sighs, but he keeps on holding Kyung’s hands. “You’re smart, you’ll figure it out before I do,” the older boy says, focus shifting away from Kyung’s face to the painting on the wall. Kyung has never really noticed how absolutely ugly the colors turn under the sick gray ceiling. Watching it, he settles his head on Jiho’s shoulder and closes his eyes for a minute. Lately everything Jiho tells him sounds convincing; they’re living in a miserable city. 

Jiho has a good smile, Kyung thinks. This Jiho is attractive with his dangerous looks and toothy grins and eyes hinting at mischief. So, even though Kyung is always so scared, he doesn’t object when he has his hands buried in coarse new blond locks and this changing person’s tongue in his mouth. 

He doesn’t bother letting anyone at home know that he’s going to be gone for a while. Jiho has gotten intoxicating lately, distorting the once lucid clarity of Kyung’s mind. So, when he sees the boys loitering in the parking lot after school he joins them with complete compliance. 

Jiho’s arm settles around his shoulders and he listens to Yukwon talk about some guys he had caught bothering Jaehyo and Jihoon the other day. Jiho leans back against his car, eyebrows raised in an unimpressed motion and thumb hooked in one belt loop. Kyung watches him tilt his head, visually tracing the curve of his neck. 

They hang around a while longer, just talking about things of similar nature. Kyung realizes they’ve given up discussing things that normal boys their ages do, or at least things the kind of people Kyung used to associate with would talk about. Everything is about the local politics of reckless boys now. 

Midway a conversation about a clique of what Yukwon deems “outstandingly annoying” kids, Kyung leans closer to Jiho to ask, “What’re we waiting for?” Jiho turns to look at him and Kyung thinks he might forget to breathe seeing how good Jiho looks. This close, Kyung could lean up and kiss Jiho’s neck, and he wants to, but it’s not really a good time or setting, so he stops himself. 

“Minhyuk, he has the stuff we need. We’re gonna go out of the city and stop at one of those camp type a’ places. Talk, cook, just chill, shit like that.” Kyung nods, likes the sound of that even if his parents won’t. They won’t really hear about it anyway, and Kyung doesn’t really care. Right now it sounds so much preferable to go eat with the boys than it does to have another insufferably quiet dinner at home. 

When Minyuk pulls up in his truck, the boys greet him with enthusiasm that he returns with a roll of the eyes, as if he isn’t equally as fond of them. 

They’re deciding to split off into groups when Jaehyo says “Hey, I call going with Yukwon, no way I’m sitting with those two,” and then he points a finger in the direction of Kyung and Jiho, who are embarrassingly tangled up in one another. Kyung freezes, one hand still cupping Jiho’s cheek and his own face turning red with blush. The boys laugh, having even Jiho speechless for a second before he’s retorting humorously, “Fine, you all go your own way, I’m not passing up having the entire car for us,” He pauses to move his arm to around Kyung’s waist and pull him closer, “We can have more fun that way.” Kyung practically chokes but no one notices because they’re all too busy laughing and calling Jiho gross. 

They end up splitting so that Jihoon and Minhyuk take the truck and the remaining boys are sat in Yukwon’s car, while Kyung goes in Jiho’s car. Jiho leans over to kiss Kyung before he starts the car to follow the other two as they leave the lot.

On the drive out of the city, Jiho turns his music up loud and Kyung has heard Jiho’s songs so many times that he sings along too. When the sun begins to dip low in the sky, dragging orangey pink light with it, Kyung sticks his arm out the window, wishing he could stir the colors with his hand. When he looks back at Jiho, the rosy light illuminates him in a radiant, glowing way that makes Kyung feel as if he’s falling in love with the same man again. 

As they veer off the road into the woods, shadows fall across their faces and the light filters through leaves in patterns that make Kyung think of overlapping stars. They don’t go too far before stopping in a decently sized clearing and getting out. Kyung stretches his arms over head and squeaks in alarm when Jiho suddenly hugs him from behind. Yukwon steps out of his car rolling his eyes, but he’s smiling at them in a knowing way. 

“Let’s get some wood,” Minhyuk suggests, closing the truck door behind him. Jihoon and Jaehyo are already setting stones out in a circle for the pit. Kyung is about to follow Jiho in search of wood but Taeil grabs hold of his arm to stop him, “Yeah, no. You two aren’t going to go fuck in the woods while we slave away.” The other boys are snickering at the comment, oblivious to the extent that it makes Kyung uncomfortable. They must miss his discomfort because Jiho finds it equally as funny, and they’ve always been the type for crude jokes anyway. Kyung rolls his eyes, forces past the awkwardness, and pushes Taeil.

It’s Kyung, Taeil and Jihoon on one side of the woods and Jiho, Yukwon and Jaehyo on the other, with Minyuk hanging back to watch their things. Kyung purposely walks in front of Taeil, dropping branches from his own collection on the way back so that Taeil has to repeatedly stop to pick them up with Jihoon’s laughing as background noise. When Taeil finally drops his collected wood by Minhyuk’s truck, he punches Kyung’s shoulder, but that doesn’t do much to stop his laughing. 

The sky transitions to a hazy purple by the time Jiho, Yukwon and Jaehyo return. Yukwon and Minhyuk settle around the fire, pulling a grill over it to begin cooking. Jiho tries to help, but after nearly burning himself, Minhyuk looks at Kyung with an unamused stare and commands, “Control your boyfriend, please.” Yukwon laughs and Kyung can’t help but break out into a grin too. 

Jaehyo ends up helping with the cooking while the others hang around talking, their extent of help being limited to offering beers and fetching whatever Minhyuk asks for. When it feels like the food is taking too long to prepare, Jihoon tears open a bag of marshmallows, dropping at least three. While Taeil is busy teasing Jaeyho with a marshmallow that has caught on fire, Kyung busies himself in settling melted marshmallows in between graham crackers for Yukwon and Minhyuk. 

Between eating smores and the food being prepared, there’s still a window of time where there’s not much to do. It’s gotten fully dark, so everyone remains close, just talking. Kyung nestles between Jiho’s arms and tips his head back to kiss Jiho’s chin. He really likes this. It feels safe and comfortable hanging out with the boys here where no one can impose their societal values. 

When they finally get to eating, everyone is for the most part tired out. So, the playfulness dies out and a somber, serious tone settles over them. It is in no way uncomfortable or overbearing, they have genuine conversations plenty often, if anything it is more enjoyable this way. It’s nice being so close that they can shift from teasing to empathetic and tender around one another. 

Kyung refuses drinking at first, denying the beer that Taeil hands him, but he ends up taking half of Jiho’s second beer anyway. Hot food, the embrace of his lover, company of the people he’s grown to care about so much, it all makes him feel incredibly at peace. Kyung thinks the thought is silly, and he’d never voice the sentiment, but he really loves everyone here. The idea embarrasses him, yet it occurs to him regardless, that this feels more like family than anything he’s ever known. In fact, Kyung is convinced that before this he didn’t really know what family even was. Bashful from the thought, Kyung buries his face in Jiho’s arm and thankfully Jiho just assumes he’s tired and pulls him somehow closer. 

They head out the following morning, a Sunday. Kyung is sure his parents must be worried right now, but when he comes home they’ll be angry. 

They’re getting back into the city when something occurs to Kyung. He leans forward to look in the mirror, squinting as he examines the car behind them. Still watching the reflection, Kyung slowly says to Jiho, “Hey, switch to the opposite lane and turn left.” Jiho casts a questioning glance but does as told, glancing out the window to gesture at Minhyuk to follow, hoping Yukwon gets the idea. 

Kyung shifts uncomfortably as they switch lanes a little too close to the next turn, but it’s not the risky driving that sets him on edge. In the mirror the car’s image persists.

“Jiho, they’ve been following us.”

The blond nods slowly, fingers drumming at the steering wheel as he turns into the streets of a neighborhood he’s never been through. Sticking an arm out the window to wave the others to follow, he turns at the very next street, essentially making a U-turn to get out of the closed off area. When Jiho gets back on the main road, he takes them in a direction Kyung is uncertain about. Jiho catches Kyung’s apprehension and mutters, “We don’t want to take them home.” 

For a while they drive around in variations of the same circle, mostly because Jiho doesn’t want to get lost. But they get followed closely despite it. Jiho bites his lip and waits an extra few seconds at a light to lean over from his window and shout to Minhyuk and Yukwon, waving them off. There’s no point in dragging everyone else down. 

Kyung shuffles nervously, tugging at the corner of his sweater in a discordant rhythm. Jiho takes a hand from the wheel to take Kyung’s hand and squeezes. “I’m sorry, baby. We can’t make a scene.” Kyung nods obediently despite the dread filling him. He feels his heart convulsing rapidly, breathing following in a subtly shallow pattern. He feels all the more afraid when Jiho pulls his hand away to concentrate on driving. 

They pull into an abandoned strip mall and the other car parks near them. Kyung looks up at Jiho, mouth gaping in a silent question, or maybe to let his heart leap out in panic. Jiho pats his shoulder and promises, “It’ll be okay. I’ll take care of us.” Kyung has no idea how.

Jiho gets out slowly, pushing the door with at a languid pace that promotes an image of dauntlessness. Kyung watches the older boy as he stands there for a moment, runs a hand through short blond hair, and shuts the door behind himself. His posture says bold and uncaring, a relaxed slant to his shoulders and weight shifted on one foot. Kyung can’t differentiate his bravado from carelessness. 

A couple of guys get out of the other car but Kyung can’t get a good look at them. It’s a lot of people for just Jiho to deal with. 

Kyung isn’t sure what they’re saying, but Jiho maintains the same unbothered gait, judging from which things must be under control. The younger boy is just barely calming himself with delusions of Jiho successfully talking his way out of this when there’s a low thud from Jiho hitting the door. 

Kyung has no idea what to do but he’s unlocking the door when he sees Yukwon walking over. He had hardly noticed Yukwon’s car pull into the strip mall, but he’s not sure how relieved he can be at that. Just seeing Jiho in a compromising position has his heart rate uncontrollable, feeling as if nothing can soothe him until he can hold Jiho. 

Yukwon walks around the car, and before anyone has fully recognized his presence, grabs one of the men closest to Jiho around the neck and drags him aside. The man chokes and pries at Yukwon’s arm, trying to loosen Yukwon’s grip so that he can breathe. Yukwon doesn’t let him go. And, as if it were a trigger being pulled, the rest of Jiho’s boys show up. Kyung is out of the car in a second then, fear no repellant for curiosity and the eagerness to be by his boyfriend’s side. It is not as impeccably planned as it might have sounded, because in the time that it takes for the boys to achieve the upper hand, someone produces a blade of some sort and plunges it into Jiho’s leg. 

Kyung pays little attention to his surroundings then, letting Jiho’s boys easily insert themselves in the situation and busy the other men. Everything falls away, edges of the entire world seeming to blur in a way familiar to Kyung, as if he were drunk. But he’s not, he is very sober, only dizzy on the fear and the adrenaline. He’s just learned to let Jiho become the center of his world, all other beings only distractions that become clouded images caught in the gravitational pull of the man who is Woo Jiho.

Jiho sits up against the car, eyes shut tightly and face pulled in a grimace from the pain. His hands clutch at his thigh, red filling the gaps between his fingers. Looking down at him, Kyung thinks that he seems so defenseless like this. 

“I’ll take care of you,” Kyung promises with a forced smile, taking an almost cruel pleasure in being able to repeat those words to Jiho. The irony is satisfying. And then he puts himself at Jiho’s level, settling on the asphalt beside him, and placing his hands over Jiho’s so that his fingers can tint red too.

They wait unbothered, everyone preoccupied to the extent that they seem to have entirely forgotten Jiho. It’s a while before Minhyuk drags things to a halt when he takes a boy looking the age of Jihoon over by the arm and shoves him towards the ground. Obviously, the others are sensitive to the harm coming to their youngest, immediately falling away from their previous fighting to become suddenly diplomatic. They sound strangled as they choke out requests for Minhyuk to lift his foot from the boy’s back.

There’s some shouting, but it’s mostly low, almost cowardly, exchanges before the others end up leaving. They depart with a threat that could just as easily be empty as it could be concrete. Kyung watches carefully, big eyes blinking fast and a hand still pressed tight to Jiho’s leg. When the threat seems minimal, he pats Jiho’s arm with reddened fingers and leaves to get the car’s trunk open. 

Minhyuk’s walking back to the car to look down at Jiho while Kyung is coming back with a first aid kit snug under his arm. He gives Minhyuk a shaky grin and says, “I knew it’d be a good investment.” 

Jiho’s boys come around, regrouping at the car. They settle around him, Jaehyo sitting down on the asphalt and Yukwon joining him there. Messy and tired, they don’t say much, just watch Kyung pop the lid of the box. Kyung doesn’t spare them so much as a glance, focus reserved for the challenge at hand, but he can sense the tired soreness that must be weighing down on them. 

“Move your hand now,” Kyung directs, kneeling over Jiho’s leg and tapping at his fingers. Jiho lifts his hands away to face scarlet palms to the sky and Kyung bites his lower lip. The gash is bleeding profusely, as expected the second the foreign object was removed, and although there’s likely no arterial damage, it is fairly large.

Kyung looks towards the other boys, hands pressing into Jiho’s thigh again to slow the bleeding. He feels the self-assurance leaving him now, feeling even slightly sick at the sight of the wound.

“Can’t we show a doctor? We wouldn’t have to tell them what happened.” Everyone shakes their heads, and through clenched teeth Jiho says, “I don’t even have the money for that.” _Right_ , these are boys not like Kyung, but boys like Jiho with circumstances a little rougher than the rest of the world. Boys who can’t afford health so they settle for affording trouble. 

Trying to refrain from panicking, which has gotten considerably easier as he has eased into this lifestyle, Kyung directs, “Someone else drive, I’m going to patch it up to slow the bleeding and I’ll fix it better when we get him home.” The boys obey him, no protest and no questions raised. Here he instills himself in their social circle, easily becoming at the center of it, without anyone knowing. Not himself, not Jiho. No one. 

Above Kyung, Taeil nominates himself for driving, “I don’t got a license but I can drive.” Kyung breathes out shakily and tries to keep his hands from trembling when he reaches for the bottle to begin disinfecting. 

The drive back Kyung rests one hand on Jiho’s leg, just above the improvised bandaging, and clasps Jiho’s hand with his other. Taeil dedicates half his attention to driving and the other half to complaining about the situation that they have gotten themselves into. Kyung barely listens and he knows Jiho isn’t paying attention either, but Taeil keeps babbling without a care.

When they get out, Yukwon helps Jiho to the door as Kyung unlocks it. Even the short flight of stairs seems daunting when they stand at the bottom of them, deciding how to get Jiho up without irritating the cut.

Once inside, they all crowd around Jiho’s couch where he’s sat, one hand gripping Yukwon’s arm very tightly, even earning a groan of complaint from the other boy. Everyone looms over Kyung and Jiho curiously, despite Kyung urging them to stop blocking his light sources. He already feels suffocated by the panic, they’re proximity is no help. 

Kyung had made up his mind on what needed to be done the instant he had inspected the wound closer, but that doesn’t deter the awed echoing that comes from everyone when he announces his plans aloud.

“Sutures?” Jiho watches Kyung with wide eyes, leaning closer as if searching for a tell-tale sign that this is a joke. Kyung nods. 

Their curious, surprised attitudes fuel Kyung’s confidence, ushering him into false certainty of his abilities. But really, he isn’t sure of how this will go. No form of practice can replicate the moment of applying this skill to a real, living being. 

So, that puts them in this position, five boys crowding around the pair. Nothing has even happened yet and Jiho is already clawing at whatever he can reach with the hand that isn’t occupied in restricting Yukwon’s blood flow. Kyung is holding up the curved needle to the light when Jiho says, “Kyung, are you sure you can do this? How do you know, how-”

He stops talking when Kyung brings the needle down. In fact, that shuts everyone up. It’s so quiet that Kyung is sure they all must be able to hear the quick thudding of his heart as it practically tries to leap out of his chest. He puts all his concentration into steadying his hands, now is the worst time imaginable for the shivering nervousness.

Without proper materials, namely the lack of forceps, Kyung drops the needle multiple times and painstakingly prolongs the process. Jiho is incredibly tense, but the fact that he hasn’t flinched is a blessing to Kyung. He can barely manage with Jiho sitting still, it’d be unimaginable if Jiho had moved. And most importantly, Jiho’s uneven, heavy breathing drowns out the sound of Kyung’s own panic. 

“Kyung, Kyung. Kyung.” Jiho keeps repeating his name in small whispers, the sound making the younger boy feel guilty even when it’s not really his fault. He didn’t want to do this, in fact, he’s been forced into doing it because of the collective consequences of Jiho’s choices lately.

The end result is simply messy. The line is uneven and there is no doubt about there being an unsightly scar present once the skin mends. In some places the sutures are pulled too tight, promising to leave additional scars once removed. The appearance disheartens Kyung, but the other five seem pleased enough with it. Jiho stares down at it, numbly letting his fingers hover over it as if wanting to feel the knotted thread, wanting to confirm its being real. 

“S-see, all okay,” Kyung stutters in an attempt to soothe, tossing his gloves in the trash and patting Jiho’s other leg. Jiho shakily reaches out to pull Kyung back when the younger boy rises to leave. No words needed, Kyung complies right away, turning to the others to reassure them, “You guys should get home, He’ll live.” 

The other boys get out without much complaint, all having lives that need attending to. Kyung locks the door and returns to his boyfriend who remains fixated on the little uneven pattern of the stitches. 

Kyung drops onto the couch beside him, picking up Jiho’s jeans as he does so and balling them up. Jiho doesn’t look up. That makes Kyung sad and he wonders if Jiho’s leg hurts really bad. Unsure how to voice that concern, he instead rests his hand on Jiho’s other leg, soothingly running his fingers back and forth across his bare thigh. 

Minutes pass before Kyung whispers, “Does it hurt?” Jiho nods, finally turning to look at Kyung. 

Staring at Jiho’s face, Kyung realizes that he can’t remember anything. It feels like a blur, as if the months that they’ve spent together have stretched into an incomprehensible smudge. He wishes they had taken pictures back when they first met, when they first started dating too. Then he could look at those pictures and compare them to now, see how Jiho has changed. So that maybe he could see how Jiho has changed him.

Kyung closes his eyes and rests his head on Jiho’s shoulder. He can barely keep track of all the time that has gone by, but it feels as if he’s been with Jiho for so long. Even if he doesn’t know what unit of time “so long” refers to, it has certainly been more than he could have imagined. 

Jiho turns and kisses Kyung’s head. “I’ll figure something out, I’ll sort it out,” He says unprompted, watching the knotted thread across his thigh again. Kyung’s stomach drops. Of course, Jiho wasn’t quieted by fear or by pain, because the bitter fire in him is never quelled these days. He was thinking, but not in the way Kyung thinks. They’re overthinkers but their thoughts are headed in opposite directions. Maybe Kyung has had it too good, so he’ll never understand Jiho. 

Nodding, Kyung lifts himself from the couch. When he looks down at Jiho, his heart twists painfully. He really loves Jiho. He kind of wants to say so. 

Instead, he says, “I’m going home.” And when Jiho looks up, startled and wishing Kyung would stay, Kyung turns away to keep the guilt from eating away at him. He feels the cavity of his chest filling with sour feelings like that lately, winding around his innards and making breathing a little harder.

He’s walking on a tightrope between two worlds. Or, rather, a single thread. But the way he visualizes it on the long walks home is thinking that the sidewalks are like the power lines overhead. Just a thin line that divides him from where he’s grown up and where he’s followed Jiho to. 

He gets home and the first thing he hears are angry accusations. He deserves this and he knows it. Yet, he doesn’t really care if he’s hurt his parents. They deserve feeling useless too, he decides. They’ve cornered him, they’ve made Jiho and him suffer. 

“Kyung, where have you been all weekend?” 

He keeps walking, doesn’t turn to look at his mother who is shouting. When Kyung ignores them, his father grabs his arm and yanks him aside forcefully, repeating, “Where have you been?”

Kyung looks at them with contempt, a newfound vicious confidence shifting his attitude from timid to reckless. Filled with annoyance that they demand knowing where he’s been, he snaps in reply, “I was just out with some friends.” He’s seething with rage at the realization that they don’t really care about him, if they did then he wouldn’t have to hide Jiho. Being with the boys over the weekend has awakened something in him, as if the truth has been revealed. What use is a family if their love comes with so many conditions? Jiho and his boys love him as he is, why can’t his parents do the same?

He’s tearing away from them, trying to leave but their anger follows him. “Kyung, what’s gotten into you?” Stubborn and just learning of the powerlessness of his parents, Kyung ignores him. It has occurred to him now that there’s nothing they can do to him. He’s spent his entire life obeying their every will and now that he has broken that compliancy in the most extreme way possible, by loving a man, he has found that there is no use in going back. Jiho is the most addicting possible taste of freedom, and it’s torn apart the simplicity of Kyung’s life. 

His parents could never understand this, not when they have no idea of Jiho. They watch him go to his room and they don’t bother pursuing him, not even when he skips dinner.

  


They meet the other boys mid-April, sometime before break. Of course, it's Jiho who introduces them, the whole thing had been his idea. 

When Jiho says he’ll figure things out, he means it. He arranges things without much input from the rest of his boys, just catches Kyung with Jaehyo, Taeil and Jihoon after school gets out one day and tells them about four new recruits to this entire mess of a conflict, and how they’ll meet two of the four the following day during their lunch break. 

They're okay, in all honesty Kyung can't find a reason to dislike them. If anything, judging from these two, they're a whole lot more innocent than some of Jiho's own guys. The two boys are the same age as Kyung, except Seungyoon seems younger even though he was born only several months later. He's cute and plays up that aspect. Kyung can't exactly tell if it's intentional or not, but it’s a charm that works. He's constantly vying for approval and attention and seems the good boy type, so it's hard to think he's any trouble. 

Kyung has never seen Seungyoon before, but he's noticed Mino around, even spoken to him briefly before. He's not as bright as he seemed from afar, but he seems confident in where he stands and his own abilities. When school ends, he's already waiting in front of the gym with Seungyoon. They had decided on a proper meeting with everyone present, though Kyung had felt apprehensive about it all.

The harmlessness of Mino and Seungyoon must be balanced out by the other boys of their gang. Jinwoo and Seunghoon are intimidating right off the bat.

Seunghoon is tall and wiry, with slim hips circled by a belt and chains. He has a blank face, thin eyes, cropped black hair, details that although individually form a forgettable face, on Seunghoon contribute to his depiction of aloof confidence. It's a face drawn with harsh lines, bare and serious. He seems the type to hate waiting because he's used to manipulating the world to work in his time. He appears scarily clever just by the way he looks slowly from person to person.

Jinwoo stands considerably shorter than him, and despite his pretty face, with softer features, and the long brown hair that frames them, he looks no kinder. If anything, the condescending air to him is only worse. Jinwoo's quiet and watches disinterestedly, as if he's too superior to meddle in this children's play. They're compliments to one another without being very different at all. Both of them look good together, and already it's hard to detach the image of one from the other. Kyung wants himself and Jiho to be like that. 

They’re talking about some plan to merge their social circles, to avoid vulnerability. The rest of the boys have been left to stand aside, but Jiho and Kyung have become an inseparable pair, so Kyung gets to stand with him, Jinwoo and Seunghoon. 

Seunghoon leans against the railing behind him and exhales loudly before speaking, "We're down to just us four, we lost Nam Taehyun in October, and look—" He leans in a little to speak quieter, directly to Jiho, but Kyung hears it too, "—Mino and Yoon, they're good boys. I don't want them in trouble that's not necessary." Jinwoo nods in agreement, but with an air that says even a simple nod from his surpasses the importance of anything else that had yet been said. Jiho must understand, Kyung can tell by the way he bites his bottom lip and breathes in slow. He's desperate, but he understands. Seunghoon keeps going, running a hand through his hair and speaking up again, "But it's not right to leave you lot to the wolves, they're a bunch of bastards and we get how screwed their reasons for being assholes are." Seunghoon moves his gaze purposefully between Jiho and Kyung, insinuating _something_ before settling on looking at Jiho again. 

Jiho looks over his shoulder at the rest of his boys, and then at Yoon and Mino. They're keeping put, but it's evident Yoon's eager to chip in his opinion by the way he shifts from foot to foot. 

The ongoing feud has been in part fueled by the hate for people like Jiho and Kyung, but Jiho is to blame too. He brought them to this point, he started it by letting his revenge go too far. Now they have a name and people who want to even things out, even when they weren't involved directly in the initial conflict.

Jinwoo finally intervenes, stepping closer and intertwining his fingers with Seunghoon's discreetly, sticking his chin out as he tilts his head slightly. Lips pursed, with a matter of fact tone, he concludes, "Of course, we'll help you, but we can only do so much.”

Jiho nods and Kyung looks back again. Everyone seems to be getting along already, and when they decide to go out to eat as a collective, it feels like they’re just friends, as if there is no grave underlying cause for this alliance. Kyung tries his best to pretend that that’s all this really is, just meeting new people. They’re just normal kids going out to eat, that he and Jiho are normal too.

It’s hard to get a space for so many people to eat, so they end up being seated outside with tables pulled together and chairs dragged over. Kyung makes sure he gets to sit beside Jiho, shooing Yukwon aside when he nearly takes the vacant spot beside Jiho. Jiho catches Kyung pushing Yukwon aside and smiles big, finding it amusing. Jiho sticks his tongue out at Yukwon as he leaves to find another seat. Kyung finds it cute— really, really cute.

As everyone is still settling down, Jiho takes Kyung’s hand under the table, lacing their fingers together. Across the table Yoon catches sight of the small action and his jaw practically drops, mouth forming a round circle as he gapes at the two. Kyung feels that familiar shame at being queer, begins shrinking away, when Yoon turns to Seunghoon and Jinwoo to say in a tone thick with surprise, “They’re like you?” 

Seunghoon laughs and pats Yoon’s shoulder, though before he can respond Yoon turns back to Kyung and Jiho to ask in an equally shocked manner, “You two are _dating_?” Jiho looks to Kyung, maybe seeking permission to answer, and for some reason that gives him the bravery to answer Yoon himself. Bubbling with pride, something he would never have expected to feel, he answers with a grin, “Yeah, Jiho’s my boyfriend.” Somehow, he smiles even wider when Jiho kisses his cheek. He’s too lost in Jiho’s smile and the way his eyes squint to notice anything else Yoon says. 

All the suffering feels worth it when he’s this incredibly happy being with his friends, these people who he’s come to care about so much. Even when they’re done eating and the dread of facing another argument with his parents fills Kyung, he can’t necessarily say he’d do anything differently to avoid that confrontation. He can easily forget it if he focuses on Jiho. They’re walking away from the others towards their car, fingers no longer linked at fear of drawing attention. 

Kyung asks tenderly, “Is your leg okay?” And Jiho nods, giving that same cute close-lipped smile that Kyung has always adored. Jiho stops him at the door of the car, taking hold of his wrist to stop him from leaving. Looking up at Jiho, all the words catch in his throat. Kyung wants to find a way to express all the love he has for the older man, but he can’t find a place to begin. But he’s more certain in it now, because he’s thought about it for hours and hours. He’s thought about it on drives home when the sweet pink of the sky turns him romantic, and he’s thought about it hours on end when he’s alone in bed with the stars winking from an open window. It’s undeniable that he loves Jiho.

Embarrassed by how he thinks of Jiho so fondly, and unsure of why Jiho has stopped him, Kyung covers his face with a hand and asks, “What?” Jiho is pulling his hand away and Kyung averts his eyes, cheeks a rosy pink and a shy smile drawn across his lips. He can’t look at Jiho, not when the blond is staring down at him so sweetly, obviously mirroring the hopelessly romantic thoughts Kyung harbors. 

“Nothing, I just,” Jiho starts but pauses to look down at their hands, “I love you.” 

They can’t kiss so they just stand there smiling at one another, and although Kyung doesn’t repeat the words, the way he’s feeling has him lightheaded. He can’t say it just yet, but he hopes Jiho knows:

Kyung loves him too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> new characters! you don't really need to know the group, they're just there to progress the plot later on. also,
> 
> I've felt kind of discouraged from continuing this for a variety of reasons, primarily just feeling it's not good enough, but I'm trying my best!


	9. You Are My World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _From beside where Jiho sits comes the pretty song-like laugh from Jinwoo. Jiho seems to pick up on Kyung's apprehension. The blond leans forward and gives an apologetic look, though Kyung knows he isn’t really sorry. If he were, this never would’ve happened._

The boundaries in life should grow with one. It only makes sense that as Kyung changes to match this new person that Jiho is becoming, that the establishments in his life begin to disintegrate. 

Hectic as life has become, Kyung tries to maintain some piece of his former self. As if he can somehow have both, as if he can be different and still fit into his old society. It hasn’t fully hit him yet that he is unwanted now, so he continues with old habits as if nothing has changed as drastically as it has. 

It all catches up with him when he walks to one of the classrooms designated for afterschool delegations for a meeting of the single club that he is actually still a participant of, math club. Before Kyung can even put his bag down, the club president stops him, putting one hand on the door frame and feigning a casual need to lean on it, when really, he means to prevent Kyung from going further into the room. 

“Kyung, we need to talk for a quick minute,” the other boy says slowly, eyes darting around nervously. “We heard about you and what you are, you know…” Kyung doesn’t fully understand, even when the boy gestures at him. The fact that Kyung doesn’t comprehend the message yet makes the club president grimace and then give a fake sympathetic smile. 

“Look, Kyung, we can’t have you with us, you know, because you’re,” The boy pauses to lower his voice, “ _gay_ , and what type of talk would that begin? It’s just not right.” The way the boy gives a self-satisfied smile and acts as if he were doing a public service makes Kyung’s blood boil.

Kyung can’t think of what to say that would eloquently send a message through. There really is nothing left to say to people like this, there’s no way they could understand, Kyung thinks. So, he lets the sour anger claim his features as he glares up at the other boy and spits, “Fuck you.” 

Then he leaves, knowing that that boy will never think he was wrong to treat Kyung like this. 

Kyung feels horrible as he gets off campus, the club president’s voice echoing in his head over and over again. He feels gross and he feels wronged, and it really just hurts. The words sting and eat away at him, and worst of all, they merge with Jiho’s voice. _You’re fucking gay, Kyung. You think you can just pretend that you’re not?_

If he goes home now, his parents might ask why math club was cancelled, and Kyung doesn’t have the energy to fabricate a good enough lie to cover what really happened. So, he goes looking for Jiho, because that’s all he really knows how to do now. 

It doesn’t take much to find Jiho, he’s loitering outside of where Jaehyo works, the new boys with him along with Yukwon, and Minhyuk. Kyung rolls his eyes when he sees them, unsurprised by the jobless three being there wasting time. He still hasn’t made any sense of Yukwon and Minhyuk being unemployed for so long. 

What annoys him more is that Yoon is ecstatically speaking in a thick, cute type of tone, lips pulled into a pout, and Jiho is leaned forward to pay him his full attention. For some reason, the sight of that makes Kyung bitter. Bothered by it, he takes the initiative to slip into the space beside Jiho unannounced, taking a hold of his boyfriend’s hand and settling a careful glare on Yoon. Jiho must not have caught the motion as being in anyway hostile, as he just smiles and says, “Kyungie!” before planting a kiss to Kyung’s temple. The younger boy smiles, satisfied. 

Jiho buries his face in Kyung’s neck, kissing there and mumbling, “You didn’t have math stuff?” Kyung frowns and shakes his head, pulling away to tell him, “They kicked me out.” There’s no elaboration needed, Jiho knows why. 

When Kyung raises his head, he realizes that Seunghoon and Jinwoo are listening too. The pensive scowl drawn across Seunghoon’s face startles Kyung, making a fear settle deep in his stomach. Something tells him he should’ve saved the bad news for later, when he and Jiho were alone. 

They hang around longer until it’s getting just barely darker out, when Jaehyo gets off work, and then they’re going someplace- Kyung has no idea where but that wouldn’t change his willingness to go. He just takes Jiho’s hand and follows. 

Showing up at a bar does set Kyung on edge. He ends up walking slow, dragging Jiho back by the arm to whisper, “We’re underage.” He’s sure the only ones old enough to be here are Jinwoo and Seunghoon, and Minhyuk can pass. But Kyung is very obviously not old enough, wearing his school sweater vest over a prim white button up. 

“You’re okay, baby,” Jiho answers, giving a toothy smile that Kyung can’t help but follow. It’s got him in a trance lately, not that he minds. 

As it turns out, Seunghoon has no trouble getting the entire lot of them in with nothing but a few words passed between him and the man at the door. Kyung can’t help but duck his head when they enter, as if he won’t be noticed that way. The, when Kyung watches the older men get drinks, he’s surprised that Jiho hands him a glass too.

They occupy a booth and the space around it, so many people barely fitting. When Seunghoon gets up to get another drink, Kyung follows, earning a confused stare from the older man. Kyung blinks slowly, glancing back at the table before returning Seunghoon’s gaze. “I want more.” 

Kyung can barely get past the stinging of the drinks, and it still tastes bad to him, but he goes along with it more often than not, it seems. He’s getting back, a little off balance now, and Yoon catches his eye again. The other boy is sitting in the slight space between Jiho and Jaehyo, and Jinwoo has taken Seunghoon’s spot, so there really isn’t much room left at all. Realistically, Kyung can’t really blame Yoon for sitting so close to Jiho, there isn’t enough space for him to do much else, but Kyung can’t curb the annoyance. 

Unsure of what to do, Kyung just stands by Jiho, one hand settling over his shoulder. Jiho looks up at him and smiles, the bleary, unfocused look in his eyes telling Kyung that he’s pretty far gone. Taeil wasn’t kidding, Kyung is dating a lightweight.

“I wanna sit,” Kyung says, moving his hand to let his fingers run across the nape of his boyfriend’s neck. Jiho spreads his arms and makes a grabbing gesture. The implications make Kyung’s face warm, or it might be the alcohol, though it’s more likely the first. He won’t reject the offer, though he does throw a hesitant glance around before deciding it’s fine. As it gets later, the bar fills with more people, and as it fills with more people, the indifference grows. Everyone’s busy minding their own business. So, Kyung settles in his boyfriend’s lap and doesn’t forget to point his smile at Yoon before redirecting his attention to whatever conversation is at hand.

Seunghoon leans against the side of the booth, seeming unfazed by the shots Kyung had witnessed him take earlier. The older man watches them and deduces, “You guys aren’t used to starting trouble, huh?” Kyung would’ve thought otherwise, he always saw Jiho as being very good at causing trouble. That’s just the repercussions of being so sheltered, there’s plenty worse things to be done. 

Kyung, losing inhibition, falls into Seunghoon’s ploy easily. When Seunghoon directs the conversation to what had happened earlier that day, Kyung doesn’t realize why. And just like that, Kyung easily gives away the name of the boy who had had him removed from the club. Seunghoon gives a satisfied hum, and then almost immediately drops all the attention he had been giving Kyung before. When Seunghoon turns away to talk to Mino instead, Kyung feels the first pricks of unease at what he’s said, even if he’s not sure exactly why the apprehension grows.

In the dimness of the room, Kyung isn’t aware of how time is passing. He wonders if his sister is worried briefly, then pushes the concern to the back of his mind. They keep chatting about things Kyung is beginning to understand better lately, because he’s heard enough about the tensions between them and other local gangs of bored boys. 

At some point Jiho nudges Kyung’s back, pushing him forward. “Kyung, get up off me,” The older man says, voice strained. Kyung turns to look at Jiho over his shoulder and he can’t really tell why Jiho is asking that of him, so he takes it as an opportunity to be stubborn and teasing. He leans back and settles more fully in Jiho’s lap, thinking himself funny, until he feels the outline of _something_ against his ass. 

“Oh.”

That gets him off Jiho’s lap quick enough, face burning with embarrassment. No one really catches what’s going on with them, thankfully, except Seunghoon. The other man looks up and raises an eyebrow, not bothering to hide the amused snort of laughter. And then, to make Kyung feel a little more miserable, Seunghoon has the audacity to turn and nudge Jinwoo, pointing in Jiho and Kyung’s direction while leaning over to whisper something to Jinwoo. Jinwoo makes eye contact with Kyung and giggles, a pretty chiming sound, that makes Kyung feel incredibly inferior, somehow. 

Jiho and Kyung spend the rest of the night being awkward, barely touching anymore. 

It ends up not being so late when they get out, which Kyung is thankful about. He needs to get home, yet for some reason he wants to go home with Jiho, even if they’re busy being weird teenage boys right now. Maybe it’s because he just really loves Jiho. But that might be pushing his parent’s patience. 

Jiho is far too drunk to drive, so it only makes sense he goes home with someone else. Logically, one of the other boys would best be suited to letting Jiho spend the night, but Kyung is selfish, so he suggests Jiho walk home with him. They can worry about the car tomorrow.

On the walk there, Kyung thinks he doesn’t want to waste time not touching, that earlier doesn’t really matter enough to stop them holding hands. So, Kyung does just that, taking Jiho’s hand and lacing their fingers. Jiho smiles at him, face reddened with a blush brought forth by the alcohol. Kyung is getting good at this, at being okay with how he isn’t dating a girl like he should be. He can’t help but feel pleased that those former inhibitions are falling away as he gains confidence. 

“Wait here,” Kyung whispers, bringing a finger up to his lips when they get to his house. He leans against the window and squints. It seems empty enough in the living room, but he opens the front door and goes in alone first to make sure again. When it looks clear enough, he gestures for Jiho to follow, directing him straight to his room.

Before catching up with Jiho in his bedroom, Kyung stops by his parents’ room. Noticing the door ajar, and the flickering light of the television illuminating the room, he knocks lightly. When he hears a hum in response, he peeks in to give a hesitant wave before saying, “Math stuff ran late, we were really on to something, then we went to eat after.” He doesn’t wait to hear if they believe it or not.

Kyung creeps into his room, locking the door behind himself and turning to Jiho. “Okay, we’re good,” He says, pulling Jiho up off the bed, both of them off balance from the alcohol. He kind of wants Jiho to ask him to clarify their boundaries again, because he thinks he might want to change his mind eventually, but it seems their last fight has scared Jiho from even hinting at the topic. That’s unfortunate, Kyung thinks. It might just be his impulses taking over again, but more likely, he’s growing comfortable with the idea of being with Jiho in every way. It’d be a lie if he were to claim that he’d never had indecent thoughts of Jiho when he was completely sober too. 

Jiho is obviously not following thoughts similar to Kyung. “I love you,” the blond says, words merging in a drunken slur as he gets up to stand with Kyung. Kyung grins, knowing Jiho means it as much as he does when sober. 

When Kyung turns, he catches their reflection in the mirror on his closet door. Jiho notices the younger boy watching it and turns too, wrapping his arms around Kyung to hug him from behind and watch how they fit together in the reflection. They make a pretty cute couple, Kyung thinks.

“Jiho, you’ve known pretty long that you’re gay, huh,” Kyung says slowly, watching the older man’s reflection. Jiho frowns but nods hesitantly. He’s talking a little too loud, but he’s unable to manage that in the haze that his mind is at the moment.

“I am too, aren’t I?” Jiho doesn’t answer, so Kyung keeps going. “I’m gay too.” 

Jiho opens his mouth to say something, but Kyung interjects again, “We're gay. That's okay, I think. I like being with you.”

The blond smiles, eyes squinting, and he hugs Kyung close. It feels nice loving Jiho. It feels good to know that it's okay to be like this. It's okay to love Jiho. 

Slowly, Kyung gets used to seeing the new boys with Jiho’s boys. The younger two really aren’t so bad, in fact, Jihoon gets along with Mino very well. And although Kyung hates it, it’s undeniable that Jiho takes a liking to Yoon. However, Seunghoon and Jinwoo continue to set Kyung on edge, something unsettling about their presence alone. Jiho was intimidating too, when Kyung first met him. But Kyung thought of that as different, because first of all, Jiho was hot when intimidating. That, and Jiho had an obvious soft side to him, that was far more genuine than anything his appearance implied to strangers. 

When they next all meet up, it’s at the parking garage from that day when Jiho had kidnapped that boy. Yukwon doesn’t tell him that that’s where they’re going, Kyung is entirely unaware of their destination until he recognizes the familiar dull structure. Yukwon practically drags Kyung up the stairs, the younger boy trying to tear away and run. Yukwon holds his arm pretty tight, fingers digging into his flesh and other hand firm at the back of his neck. 

“C’mon Kyung, Jiho wants you to be with us,” Yukwon sighs, as if lugging Kyung here against his will is nothing more than an inconvenient chore. Kyung doesn’t listen and tries to pull away again.

When Yukwon lets him go at the second story, Kyung immediately brings up a hand to rub at where the older boy had been clenching his arm. Jiho’s voice comes from some ways aside, “You hurt him?” 

Kyung shudders.

“No, Jiho. He’s fine, he’s all good,” Yukwon reassures flatly, glancing down at Kyung once before returning Jiho’s stare. Kyung follows Yukwon’s gaze to look over at Jiho, who is sat on a worn-out couch. 

They’ve been hanging around here pretty often, Kyung realizes. Even if he hasn't been with them, they’ve started turning the empty space into their own, judging from the couch alone. That, and the countless empty cans of beer and soda, and the empty turned over buckets, says they’ve been spending a good amount of time occupying the vacant space here. Everyone’s there, Jihoon included. Kyung really is the last one in on the secret. 

“Kyung,” Seunghoon gives an untrustworthy smile and steps towards him, “We took care of that douchebag for you.” 

“What?”

Kyung knows what Seunghoon means, he knew the moment he had told Jiho about the club president, but he wants to believe it’s not true. He wants Seunghoon to tell him they didn’t do anything on his behalf. 

“ _You know._ You’re playing dumb, but if you really need me to spell it out: broke his legs.” 

From beside where Jiho sits comes the pretty song-like laugh from Jinwoo. No one seems phased, but when Kyung glances over Seunghoon’s shoulder to look at Jinwoo and Jiho, Jiho seems to pick up on the apprehension. The blond leans forward and gives an apologetic look, though Kyung knows he isn’t really sorry. If he were, this never would’ve happened.

Kyung furrows his brows and bites at his bottom lip as that familiar breathless feeling overtakes him and his heart rate picks up. He can even _hear_ it, the sick snap of bone, the crunching of cartilage, and a muffled scream. It’s repulsive and wrong, even if Kyung did hate that boy. Seunghoon watches Kyung’s uneasiness with narrowed eyes, cold and calculating.

Seunghoon brushes past the topic as if it were insignificant, turning the focus to other things, “Anyway, we don’t sit idle long, so I had some ideas.” Kyung stares at him, disgusted, but Seunghoon doesn’t really care. In fact, the older man turns away to address Jiho and Jinwoo exclusively. As Kyung stares at the taller man’s back, he realizes he’s failed. It was a _test_ and he’s failed. If he had accepted Seunghoon’s decisions with a more poised demeanor, he’d have been kept in the circle of discussion. Formerly, it had been him along with Jinwoo, Seunghoon and Jiho, discussing their matters. Now he’s been deemed unworthy of the discussion, or better said, he’s been decided too weak for it. 

Kyung watches open mouthed as Jinwoo gets up from the couch and Jiho follows, the three walking out. Yukwon raises an eyebrow, but before he can even ask, Jiho turns to nonchalantly reassure, “Don’t worry, we just need to talk some stuff through.” 

Bitter, Kyung takes Jiho’s spot on the couch, hugging his knees close. He’s going to mentally go through an annoyed rant when he notices Yukwon plop down beside him. The older man stretches his arms overhead and sighs loudly before reaching in his pocket to produce his wallet. 

Kyung looks over curiously, which is what Yukwon wanted anyways. “Got a camera,” Yukwon begins as he flips open the worn leather and with his thumb slides two pictures from it. As he hands the photos to Kyung, he explains with a poorly suppressed grin, “My girlfriend.” Just slightly confused, Kyung takes the two rectangular photos and examines them. The exposure is high in one, likely taken later at night, and it features her standing in front of a restaurant. There’s a controlled smile on her face, evident it’s a posed picture to some extent. The other is more candid, showing the same girl closer now, the straw of a drink held to her lips as she laughs about something. Kyung likes that one.

After a few silent moments of Kyung staring at the pictures, he looks back at Yukwon. Yukwon’s fully smiling now and Kyung smiles back, because although he’s listened to Yukwon talk about her at times, Kyung has never really seen him express the extent of their relationship. But looking at Yukwon now, he can tell he really loves her. Maybe Yukwon loves her in the way Kyung loves Jiho. Love is universal and the same in all forms, Kyung thinks. 

The thought is interrupted when Yukwon says, “She’s really fucking beautiful, isn’t she?” Kyung doesn’t miss a beat, he nods and agrees as his gaze falls back on her pictures. “Yeah, ‘Kwonie. Really beautiful.”

He’s not so confused about why Yukwon showed him those pictures. If he had pictures of Jiho, and if he could, he’d show everyone too. He’d want to talk about Jiho forever. 

When Jiho and the other two come back, Kyung and Yukwon are still talking. Somewhere behind them, Mino, Yoon and Jihoon have gotten into play wrestling, while the other boys sit around and talk similarly to Kyung and Yukwon. Kyung looks up to Jiho, remembering his earlier irritation, and asks bluntly, “So?”

“We don’t wanna cause anything during spring break, too quiet,” Jiho starts, missing the way Kyung’s attitude had changed entirely upon his return, “So, I’m gonna get out of this place.” Kyung tilts his head, not quite sure what “this place” is.

Getting up at the slightest prick of worry, Kyung stands and takes Jiho’s hand. The bubbling annoyance is replaced with nervousness, as he’s more easily controlled by his love for Jiho than anything else. “What do you mean? Are you really going to leave?” Jiho nods. 

“We’ll talk about it later, baby,” Jiho reassures, though Kyung doesn’t like being brushed aside like this.

Kyung doesn’t speak after that, just returns to the couch and quietly mopes there with one arm hanging over the side of it and his chin hooked over the armrest. Seunghoon and Jiho elaborate on the importance of avoiding trouble for a while, because they’ve already done enough harm lately and how such a peaceful time is a cry for getting caught. Kyung can see the logic there, but he refuses to show any signs of agreement. Anyway, this could all easily be avoided if they stayed out of trouble altogether.

After the debriefing, they hang around the lot a while longer, Jiho wandering off to talk with one of the other boys. Kyung turns back to Yukwon and asks, “Hey, you said you got a camera?” Yukwon nods his confirmation, raising an eyebrow at the question.

Although Kyung hasn’t any clue why Yukwon has made yet another frivolous purchase, he’s taking the opportunity to be selfish and leave investigations for other cases. “Can I borrow it?” Kyung smiles again when Yukwon gives another nod before saying, “Yeah, sure. I’ll drop it by Jiho’s place tomorrow.”

Kyung is giddy from the excitement of getting to play with the camera when he turns over the back of the couch to glance at his boyfriend. What he sees flips his mood. Again.

It’s not really Jiho’s fault, but when Kyung sees the older man talking to Yoon again, it makes him upset. There’s something about Yoon that Kyung feels he simply can’t compare to. 

Right now, the other boy is wearing a much too big, long-sleeved school sweater, that really shouldn’t be worn during the spring season anyway, and shorts that reveal pale slender legs. His clothes are disheveled, the stretched-out collar of the sweater dragging down to expose delicate collarbones and a slim neck. Maybe it’s due to the earlier wrestling, honestly, it probably is, but Kyung chooses to ignore that point. 

There’s just something very sensual and pretty, almost fairy-like, about Yoon. With that fluffy head of hair and big round eyes and full, plush lips; he’s very unlike Kyung. And the way he leans forward to talk to the older boys and puffs out his cheeks for a charming cute effect, makes Kyung’s nerves fizz with annoyance. 

Kyung can’t think of any natural way to insert himself into the four’s conversation this time, which only further sours his mood. He spends too long just glaring at them over the back of the couch, waiting for either Yoon or Jiho to do something that is unbearable. But they don’t, it’s only dangerous closeness, so Kyung can’t even talk to Jiho about it later without sounding unreasonable.

When Jiho walks back to the couch, Kyung quickly turns around, crossing his arms and glancing up slowly. Jiho doesn’t seem to have noticed anything, just reaches out to take Kyung’s hand and pull him up. “Let’s go,” the blond says, smile digging into his round cheeks at the corners.

Kyung swallows the irksome thoughts of Yoon and follows Jiho, turning once to wave at Yukwon, who smiles back sweetly. Something about seeing the vulnerable sides of Jiho’s boys scares Kyung. It is endearing and somehow just as chilling. Those lovable little qualities make Kyung’s heart ache with fondness for them. It’s as if it were too good to be true that he has these people as his friends. 

Kyung follows Jiho out and they walk to a convenience store as the sun begins to dip down towards the horizon. They hold hands most of the way, and Kyung takes the moment to lean against Jiho and ask, “Where are you going to go?” He doesn’t want to be mad at Jiho, especially not if he’s leaving soon. He’s sick of all the arguing and being bitter with Jiho.

The older man slows, bringing Kyung’s hand up to kiss his knuckles. Kyung can’t help the fluttering feeling deep in his chest at the small action, smile creeping across his face already. 

“I guess I’ll get out of the city,” Jiho answers. The growing smile vanishes from Kyung’s face and he doesn’t even realize it, but he’s pouting. The heartbroken expression Kyung wears must be enough for Jiho to break, because he’s quick in trying to form amends, “But it’s only a week, Kyungie. You’ll be alright.” 

Stubbornly, Kyung shakes his head and tries to rebuff Jiho with his own reasoning, “No, I won’t. I’ll miss you, and I just wanted to...I don’t know? I mean…” Amidst the struggle to explain, Kyung realizes that he’s uncertain about expressing what he wants. It’s not that he doesn’t know what to say, it’s just something that he’s hesitant with. 

For a while now, Kyung has had to share Jiho with all the boys. And that’s fine, Kyung knows that those were Jiho’s friends first, but lately it’s become tiresome. Not only that, but with the presence of the four new boys, it really does feel like he’s never on the receiving end of Jiho’s attention long enough. He can’t differentiate selfishness from genuine worry, and it’s preventing him from talking these things out the way people in relationships should.

Jiho lets go of Kyung’s hand as they near the store and looks down at Kyung as he asks, “What do you mean?”

“It’s just...I want to do boyfriend things with you, but we never get the time,” Kyung looks away, embarrassed, “I thought spring break would be a good time.” He feels stupid now that he’s voiced it aloud. 

A range of several emotions play out on Jiho’s face as he comprehends all the things Kyung means. There’s the subtle bite of knowing that he hasn’t been listening to Kyung enough lately, and then the aching fondness at the unbearably adorable way Kyung presents his concerns with these sorts of issues. The shyness is precious, Jiho thinks, and he wants to trace the path of blush over Kyung’s face with his fingers.

Ultimately, Jiho worries about Kyung, and definitely doesn't mean to be so ignorant to his boyfriend’s concerns. “Come with me then,” he says, and the words ring familiar to Kyung. He thinks for only a minute, already running all the logistics of it, before realizing none of that matters. Of course he’ll go with Jiho, even if it’s irrational. In fact, he’s realizing now, that if Jiho were to suggest it, Kyung would run away with him too. 

“Okay, I’ll figure it out, but promise it’ll be fun?” 

Jiho nods, opening the store’s door for Kyung. They walk up the aisle, Kyung slipping his hand into Jiho’s as they’re blocked from the gaze of others by the shelves. Jiho looks back at Kyung to give him a soft smile, leaning over quickly to press a gentle kiss to Kyung’s cheek. “You’re a sappy loser,” Jiho says, poorly suppressing a laugh, and pulling Kyung along. 

“Yeah, but you love me,” Kyung shoots back, smiling too. He’s missed this, their easy, teasing conversations. 

Jiho stops at a shelf of candy and throws Kyung another glance to answer, “That’s right, I do.” And then the older man is looking at the selection of candy before turning in the direction where they came from. Kyung is going to ask what’s wrong but stops when he notices Jiho take chocolate bars off the shelf and seamlessly slip them into the pocket of his jacket.

In a fluid, single movement, Jiho has what he came for, and then he’s leading Kyung out of the store, hand let go again. Kyung’s caught in shock, unsure of what to say. Not that he’d rat the other out, he never would.

“Jiho, why’d you do that,” Kyung is saying as soon as they’re far enough from the store. Jiho shrugs, avoiding eye contact as he’s known to do whenever Kyung is trying to address valid concerns. “Not a big deal,” comes the answer, and Kyung is too exhausted to push anymore. So, he keeps walking, evading Jiho’s hand when he tries to lace their fingers together again.

Jiho walks him home. When Jiho hugs Kyung, the younger boy doesn’t respond, just lets Jiho hold on to him for a moment. He’s being worn this by the ways Jiho can make him feel so happy for a moment, only to snatch it all away from him with a single action. 

The older man pulls away and asks, “We’ll leave Thursday night then, okay?” Kyung agrees with a nod, already working up an elaborate story to give his family. No matter what, he can’t stop himself from wanting to be with Jiho. It’s become incredibly painful, both physically and emotionally. It’s as if he’s always drained of energy just by being around Jiho.

Kyung gets home and disregards his parents who sit in the living room. From the corner of his eye, he catches them turn to say something to him, but shockingly, they refrain. 

In his room, Kyung thinks of how hopelessly far gone he is for Jiho. What makes it so unbearable is that he knows there’s something wrong, in fact, he’s always known. But he can’t find the resolve to cut ties with Jiho. Lying in his bed, he entertains the thought. What if he would just break up with the older man. Kyung closes his eyes tight at the thought, just imagining it makes him ache with an unimaginable, growing pain. 

Thoughts of leaving Jiho transition into thoughts of being with Jiho forever. He knows it’s foolish to think this way because any desire for anything more than the briefest of happiness with Jiho is unrealistic, but he can’t help it. They’re young and deserve the freedom to dream of domestic bliss, of holding hands at the store even when it’s not late and empty, of kissing each other outside of hours when it’s dark and they’re alone, of all the normal relationship that it’s hard to constantly avoid. 

Kyung pulls his blanket over his head and wishes he could have Jiho for a long time. No matter how much Jiho makes him hurt right now, Kyung thinks it doesn’t matter. It’s all circumstances, he figures, that have made them this way. If things were just a little different, he could love Jiho without having to feel this constant pain of being eaten away at by all the stressors. 

In the morning Kyung lingers around the kitchen for longer than he typically would. Finally, his mother notices and asks him for reason as to why he hasn’t started walking to school yet.

“I forgot to tell you, but there’s a tournament that the math club members are going to go for over break. I’ll bring the forms today, for sure,” Kyung pauses, pacing his words to make them come across as less rehearsed, “Is that okay?”

His mother turns back to the stove to shut it off and set some dishes in the sink, obviously taking a moment to think about what Kyung is saying. When she turns back to face him, she reluctantly agrees, “Fine, as long as you bring all the papers in time.”

Kyung employs Jiho to help him print fake papers. As Kyung is running the plan by Jiho, the older man turns awestruck, taking Kyung’s arm and shaking him as he says, “Kyung, this is so clever, and something you wouldn’t do, ever.” Kyung laughs, ignoring that the latter of Jiho’s observation is unsettlingly true. Instead he answers, “I guess you’re really a bad influence.” 

Afterschool, Kyung hurries home to get the papers to his parents. They fall for it fairly easily, only throwing him a few questions about the details of the trip itself rather than about the forms. Then they sign them off without much disagreement, handing them back to Kyung along with some cash for the trip. Trying to withhold the triumphant grin that grows across his face, Kyung hurries to his room.

It takes longer than he expects to figure out how many clothes he should take, and how to fit them into a backpack, but he ends up only taking enough for a couple days and assumes they can figure it out later. Thursday night, Kyung is leaving the house, barely stopping even when his mother calls out to ask if he’d prefer she drive him to the school for the meetup rather than he carpool. Kyung reassures her hurriedly that he’s completely fine getting a ride from another club member, and then he’s out the door before anyone can question him more. 

As soon as Kyung gets in Jiho’s car, the older man is smiling. “Kyungie, it worked, huh?” Kyung grins back and nods, proud of himself more than he is relieved. This is exciting.

The plan is an elaborate thing that they came up with over a date at an ice cream parlor. On one of Jiho’s old notebooks, from when he was still in school, they had scribbled out notes and an entire plan, including a breakdown of money that Kyung insisted they should do. The conclusion is that Kyung will spend Thursday night at Jiho’s home so that they can leave early Friday morning, leaving not a minute to waste. 

As promised, Yukwon had left the camera at Jiho’s place. Kyung makes sure to set it out on the table so that he won’t forget to take it the following day.

In bed, they waste an hour holding hands and laughing, talking about light-hearted, fun things. Eventually they’re talking about the future, but that’s typical of kids. Young people always assume they have endless time and opportunity to them, as it is essentially woven into people’s very being to hope in times of their youth. 

“We could have a big house, but-” Kyung begins suggesting, but before he can clarify, Jiho practically completes his thought, “No, we should have a small house, it’d be cozy.” Kyung smiles, looking away from the ceiling to watch Jiho’s profile. He likes that they’re on the same page.

“All the boys would come over, even if there isn’t enough space on the couch,” Kyung continues, still watching Jiho. He can barely keep the excitement out of his voice, but it’s not so embarrassing when Jiho sounds as equally captivated by their dreaming. 

The older man nods, still fixated on the ceiling above as he adds, “Right, and we’d always play really good music-”, Kyung cuts him off to elaborate, “Really good music, so the neighbors would come by to ask about it.” That idea makes Jiho grin really big.

“Yeah, and you know, we’d hold a big block party, so everyone would know we love good music,” Jiho looks towards Kyung, “and each other.” Kyung blushes, bringing his free hand up to cover his face, but it can’t keep Jiho from knowing how he’s grinning uncontrollably. 

Through the laughing, Kyung still manages to form another thought, one Jiho has to hear, “And that’d be okay, they wouldn’t mind one bit that we love each other.” 

With those thoughts in mind, and Jiho’s arms wrapped around him, Kyung drifts off to a comfortable slumber. The following week will be better things, better than they have been for a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit of a pain to write, it started as 10K actually, but i ended up splitting it.  
> Anyways, I'll be [here](https://starlunch.tumblr.com). Take care, everyone!


	10. Substellar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Kyung likes to imagine how their lives would go if they were to drop everything then and there, restarting in each of these places. There are wondrous aspirations in each, things to pursue with passion and allure, together._

Early morning the couple eat breakfast in the kitchen and then they’re getting out of the house, Kyung grabbing the camera in a hurry. They pile their bags into the trunk, complete with snacks Jiho had bought earlier that week, and a couple of sodas. Everything is left behind in the excitement to get on the road.

Kyung sits in the passenger seat, camera held in his lap. Jiho starts the car and looks over at Kyung, flashing a big smile, he’s unable to contain the enthusiasm too. He looks really good to Kyung, wearing a dark tee and dark jeans that fit him so that Kyung wants to stare at his thighs. He’s brushed his hair and parted it neatly, a contrast from the messy bed-head earlier this morning, and now the natural black roots of his hair are beginning to show. 

“Wait,” Kyung commands, holding up the camera before Jiho can comprehend what he’s doing. There’s a small click and then there’s the still black film sliding out. Jiho gets it just barely before Kyung does. The younger boy reaches for it, whining, “Jiho, stop it, give it back.” Jiho just laughs at him and holds it further away, amused at Kyung’s attempts to get it back. 

Kyung leans over as far as he can go, catching Jiho’s wrist in his hand, and then Jiho pulls him further to plant a wet kiss to his cheek. “Hey-” Kyung starts in protest, but then Jiho hands him the picture and turns to face forward and starts backing the car out. 

Holding on to the picture, Kyung looks at Jiho once more, clever comebacks caught in his throat because it was cute even if he was being teased. So, he bites back the retort and settles for saying nothing, looking at the picture instead. It’s good, a little blurred, but good. Kyung sets it in the cup holder, making a mental note to put it in his backpack later. 

They drive for a long time, rolling the windows down when they get out of the city. Kyung sticks his arm out, letting the wind catch between his fingers as if it were streams of water. He likes the music and the boy beside him and it’s so easy to forget everything behind them.

Once out of the city, Jiho is driving fast so that all Kyung can hear is the rush of wind, noticing the way it makes his fingertips numb with cold. They pass waving fields of sunburnt grasses, their long, feathery stalks waving rhythmically against blue sheets of sky. It all becomes a blur of yellow and blue and little faded red, single story buildings scattered infrequently through the stretches of land. Kyung thinks of the color wheels he used to see in the art class Jiho once would paint similarly yellow fields in. 

As the sun runs her cycle in the sky, there’s a moment where all is illuminated in breathtaking gold. Kyung gasps at the way the fields of wheat turn to endless pools of golden thread, light catching on each individual. In excitement, Kyung turns to look at Jiho and tell him of what he sees, but when he turns his voice catches in his throat.

Similarly to the landscape, the golden light slides like silk across Jiho, bringing out all the harsh angles and dewy planes of his face. He raises an eyebrow, expectant, and the way he smiles so handsome makes Kyung’s heart leap. Kyung grins and shakes his head, “Nothing, just nothing.” 

Gold light and purple shadows settling over the land, Kyung keeps watching it all shift and move with the car and the sun. Dotted across the field appear round, white cotton, like the clouds over head. 

Kyung hits Jiho’s shoulder in an ecstatic hurry to stop, shrieking, “Sheep!” 

“Hey, I’m driving, I could’ve driven us off the road,” Jiho laughs, rolling his eyes but slowing the car anyway, so Kyung can lean out the window and see the animals. Kyung turns back to ask eagerly, “Can we get out?”

So, they’re rushing out of the car, doors slammed shut behind them and window still rolled down halfway. Kyung steps up on the fence and leans forward, reaching out to the sheep just to wave at them as they chew on grass, unbothered. Jiho chuckles, resting his arms on the fence and watching Kyung fondly. 

They’re not there long before a man starts coming up in the distance, clad in overalls and a wide hat. Kyung stops his waving at the sheep to wave at the man too, still giddy on the excitement of how it all is so overwhelmingly peaceful and pretty. Jiho waves too, and when the man comes up, they learn that the sheep are his.

“Where are you boys coming from?” When Jiho answers him, he seems to ponder it for a second, tilting his head and resting a hand on one of the fence posts. “What’re you two doing headed so far from home?” Kyung can’t tell if there’s a hint of suspicion there or if he’s being over analytical. 

Jiho answers coolly without a pause to think, “Stuff’s bad at home, ya’ know?” Kyung catches on and is immediately nodding, chipping in with a far too relaxed shrug, “Yeah, needed a break, so we’re just gonna spend some time out on the road.” The man nods, convinced. 

“Well, you boys have fun then, I hope it’s all better for you two eventually.” Kyung hopes so too.

They stop at some motel, whispering plans to avoid acting too close when they walk in and request a single room. The woman behind the counter doesn’t question it, just takes Jiho’s money and hands them a key. Kyung can’t stop himself from taking Jiho’s hand on the way up the stairs.

They open the door and Kyung drops their stuff on the floor, watching Jiho collapse on the bed almost instantly after kicking off his shoes. Watching Jiho from where he stands, with his tee shirt ridden up to expose the angle of one hip bone, and the way he brings one arm up to messily run a hand through disarrayed hair, makes Kyung think that there’s something sexy and romantic about this all. 

“You look good,” Kyung says, indulging in the impulse to take another picture of Jiho. He’s snickering already, playfully holding up the camera and watching his lover through the lens. At the sound of the click, Jiho is sitting up and reaching for Kyung, grabbing Kyung’s arm and pulling him forward to take the camera from his hand even though Kyung has taken the film.

Kyung opens his mouth in protest as Jiho sets the camera at the nightstand but can’t say anything more than a yelp of surprise as Jiho turns to him again to drag him into bed. 

“Mhhm, Kyungie,” Jiho pauses, a little breathless from hauling Kyung on to the bed, “You’re pretty hot, too.” Kyung flushes, bringing his hands up to cover his face as Jiho pulls Kyung over by the waist to sit him in his lap. He’s not really embarrassed in the same way as he might have been months ago, because now he’s struggling to keep from laughing as Jiho peppers his hands in kisses. 

The older man leans back against the headboard and turns Kyung to let him straddle his lap better. Kyung pulls his hands away to place them at Jiho’s hips as he leans forward to leave a chaste kiss on Jiho’s lips. When he sits up again, hands still placed at the older man’s hips, Jiho is smiling.

Distracted in the moment, Kyung isn’t quick enough to stop Jiho when he brings the camera back up to return the favor and snap a picture of him. “Hey-” Kyung starts, but it’s too late, because the film slides out and is between Jiho’s fingers in a second.

“There, now it’s fair,” Jiho says, kissing Kyung’s forehead before pushing him off his lap and getting up. Dumbfounded, Kyung watches for a moment before puffing out his cheeks and pouting, crossing his arms in mock indignance.

“You suck,” Kyung calls after Jiho, who throws a glance over his shoulder to answer with a grin, “Yeah, I’m good at it too.” It’s no surprise that Kyung takes the pillow from behind himself and hurls it at Jiho, amused when it hits the older man square in the head. 

They go out to eat and when they get back Kyung is suddenly so tired that he falls asleep mid-story, settled half on top of Jiho, his head resting on the blond’s chest. 

The following morning, Kyung takes a shower first and leaves to get breakfast, and by the time he’s back and already eaten his own, Jiho is just stepping out of the shower. So, while Jiho eats, Kyung brushes his boyfriend’s hair, sorting it out neatly. 

Then they’re hitting the road again, this time for not as nearly as long. Days go by like that, driving through places and stopping briefly to just barely catch the essence of alternate stories. Kyung likes to imagine how their lives would go if they were to drop everything then and there, restarting in each of these places. There are wondrous aspirations in each, things to pursue with passion and allure, together. Kyung gets so caught up in the moment that he doesn’t take anymore pictures after those first two, but it’s not really a loss. It’s just as lovely simply embracing the experiences for what they are, knowing they have to be let go soon. 

They see an art museum where Jiho spends hours, but Kyung doesn’t even notice because he’s so caught up in following Jiho around, watching in an enamored way as the older man catches on all the details of every piece. The place is closing, empty of most visitors when Jiho takes advantage of the vacant halls to grab Kyung’s hand to lead him to an abstract piece he had been rambling about the entire day without having seen it yet. Breathless and confused, Kyung couldn’t have ever made sense of the massive wall of various reds that were slathered over a towering canvas, not until Jiho grabbed him by the waist to kiss him. And when they pull apart, it feels like the piece has gained new meaning, the vivid shades of red mirroring the way Kyung feels overwhelmed in incomprehensible love for Jiho. 

They stop at a beach another day and spend the entire evening simply looking for seashells, collecting all sorts. Jiho shows Kyung what he claims is the biggest sea shell either have found. When Kyung presents one that he’s found to be larger, he has to avoid the urge to kiss away the pout from Jiho’s lips. It’s not quite late out yet when they have amassed countless seashells. It takes a lot of walking, but they get to an isolated corner of the shore line and stay there until well after sunset, fixing shells into the soft sand underfoot. The tide is already climbing up the beach and eating away their efforts when they finish, but as they get off the beach, the words stay legible, “Love’s Okay.” Kyung had picked the phrase, suggesting it rather boldly as an ode to their progress so far. 

They get stranded outside a restaurant, unsure of directions from there, one night. It’s raining and cold, and Kyung huddles close to Jiho as he tries to make sense of a map. All his efforts are delayed when a dirty grey cat finds its way towards Jiho, watching with round green eyes. As Jiho crouches down to hold out a piece of a cracker to the cat, Kyung can’t help but join him, and when he says “cute” he’s means Jiho, not the cat.

Sometimes they don’t have anything planned, because it’s all so spontaneous and nothing’s really planned at all, so they wander the new cities until they’re tired. And when they’re tired they go back to whatever motel they’ve managed to find and they have plenty fun just being close, doing nothing. One of those days, they find it’s a good excuse to get their laundry done, as neither had brought nearly enough clothes. 

It's a warm afternoon that they take out a bag of worn clothes to a laundromat they had driven past while searching for a motel. It’s fairly empty inside, only two of the washing machines occupied with sloshing around clothes in sudsy water. Kyung sits up on one of the washing machines as Jiho empties their bag into another, neither saying much. Besides them, a woman finishes folding her clothes on one of the counters, and leaves with her two children trailing behind, the two eyeing Kyung and Jiho as they leave. 

Kyung swings his legs idlily, watching the clothes turn infinitely inside the round window. Jiho sits aside, writing out their expenses so far in his notebook. The clothes spin on and on in the way Kyung feels his own world spins, dizzily and with no begin or end. In fact, he’s sure the whole world, the whole solar system, spins in the same way. If he could overlook the planets in the way he can this washing machine, he’d see the round orbs become blurs of color in their busy circular routes. 

When they’re transferring the clothes to the dryer, there’s only an old woman and what Kyung presumes is her granddaughter left. Kyung has their bills exchanged for quarters, and when he gets back to the dryer, he pretends it’s an accident that his hand settles on where Jiho’s hand is holding the door open. The two exchange a shy smile, as if the secrecy is due to their being still blushing lovers who have yet to confess feelings, not because they’re afraid of being caught. When Kyung looks up, he glances at the other two in the laundromat again. The young girl seems busy in counting out quarters for the next load, but the old woman watches Kyung and Jiho with an odd fixation that Kyung hadn’t noticed before. He tries to ignore it. 

Kyung is sat on the washing machine again, and their clothes are still rumbling on in bumpy circles when the other two have their laundry done. The young girl takes the first bag of clothes and disappears out the door, likely to set them in a car. Kyung glances at the old woman, alarmed when he catches her looking back. He’s even more panicked when she hobbles over. Kyung searches the room for Jiho in a panic, but the older man is busy in writing out more notes of some sort.

“You boys seem close,” The old woman says, unprompted.

“We are,” Kyung answers stiffly, stilling his legs from kicking. 

The woman glances at the door, but no sign of her granddaughter’s reemergence is present. She looks to Kyung again and gives a smile, the creases in her face telling Kyung of all the countless things she knows that he doesn’t.

“He’s your lover, isn’t he?”

Kyung should deny it, but he finds the way the woman looks up at him says that she isn’t asking because she wishes harm on them. There’s a sincere interest in the way she expectantly awaits a confirmation, and it’s enough to bring Kyung to shakily nod. “Yeah.”

The young girl reappears, taking the old woman’s attention away from Kyung for a moment. She has to go, but she makes sure to spare some time for Kyung again, giving him a big, crooked toothed smile.

“You two boys take care, it’s a very unloving world out there,” She says to him, and then she’s leaving before Kyung can even find words to respond with. He should’ve said something, probably should have thanked her, but he’s frozen in shock. He’s never found acceptance in such a foreign form. 

The woman is standing outside the store, watching her granddaughter shut the trunk, when Jiho comes over to Kyung to ask what the woman had wanted. Kyung can explain later, right now, he cups his boyfriend’s face in his hands and pulls him in for a chaste kiss. The woman was right, it is a very unloving world, so at the very least he’ll hang on to this love.

Another day, they find a concert pretty cheap, and Jiho grabs Kyung’s hands to plead that they go. He’s never gone before, but Kyung concedes, finding that he’s always trusted Jiho otherwise, so why not now? It’s fun and they scream whatever lyrics they can manage to know, so when the show ends Kyung has nearly lost his voice. They hold hands sometime between the encore and the end without even realizing, but it’s fine, everyone’s so caught up in the music they wouldn’t care even if they noticed. 

Everywhere they go, Kyung can’t help thinking that it’s a good time to run away. He’d abandon it all for Jiho, he realizes one night, watching Jiho curled up beside him, asleep. It’s almost scary that he’d do that for Jiho, but there’s no way to stop wanting that. Kyung would accept in a heartbeat. All Jiho would have to do is ask.

On their drive back home, it’s dark and they’re out in the middle of nowhere. Jiho pulls the car over and Kyung isn’t sure why, so he’s a little afraid. But when Jiho takes his hand briefly before getting out, Kyung finds his confidence renewed. They slam the doors shut once their out and instantly Kyung feels the stars overhead calling. So, he tips his head back to answer them, and their immense beauty is overwhelming and so captivating that it makes Kyung dizzy. 

“Jiho,” he gasps, wanting to know if Jiho is looking too, but unable to tear his gaze away from the vast night sky overhead. There’s a divine presence in the way their luminosity weighs down on the two. Watching them, he feels as if there’s something there, some whispered revelation hidden in the discordant patterns of those white lights. Caught in the celestial maze overhead, Kyung is sure he can decipher the truth to all that they’ve been through. He can find a solution if they search long enough. Now feels like a good time to confirm that ideal of running away. 

There’s nothing beautiful about their love. They’re not poetic, star-crossed lovers with artistry woven into their words. There is no elegance in the way that they portray their love to the world. There’s nothing graceful nor lovely about them, so this can’t be called a grandiose tragedy, painted with elaborate, rich colors and sung with sensual passion. No, this is a commoner’s tale, that could never pass beyond their social circle. But, watching the stars overhead, Kyung realizes that at the very least, it is okay for them to love despite the unattractiveness of it. 

They hold hands and lie on the hood of the car, watching the countless stars, eventually breaking from their dazes to point out the glittering marvels that stand out most. At some point Kyung turns to Jiho and whispers, “I wish it were like this all the time.” Jiho looks shaken by those words and sits up.

“Kyung, we have to go home.” 

Kyung knows he’s right. It’s stupid to think it could be that easy to leave all the trouble behind. He knows it’s insane to even want to run away with someone he might only be infatuated with temporarily. They’re just kids, nothing is constant in their lives. Tomorrow they could easily be broken up over any fickle matter. 

The rest of the drive back Kyung spends asleep for the most part. When they get back into their town, it’s very late and Kyung is still tired when he gets home. He waves off all pestering from his parents, promising elaborations on math club things tomorrow. 

He’s reheating leftovers from their dinner when his sister comes around, sitting at the island across him. He doesn’t expect her to say anything, even if she does suspect he’s been doing things other than what he had claimed to have left for. He also doesn’t expect her to look at his bag and notice the rectangular photos of Jiho sticking from the front pocket.

“Who’s this?” She takes the images, one stacked on the other, and holds it close to her own face to inspect the man in the image. Kyung nearly knocks his plate over in the jolt of shock at her taking them. He wants to snatch them away from her, but he knows it would be a questionable behavior, one not safe when his parents have curiously turned their attention to the two siblings now.

All Kyung can do is pray that she doesn’t look at the second picture, the one of Jiho laying on the bed at their first stop. At the time it hadn’t seemed scandalous in the slightest, but now that Kyung thinks of it, it is quite risqué. He won’t have any way to explain why he has a photograph of a man sprawled across a bed in a dimly lit room like that. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Kyung starts, trying to form an excuse as he speaks, “I found the pictures on our table after breakfast. I thought one of the girls in our group might have brought pictures of her boyfriend or something, so I asked, but no one recognized them.” His sister looks skeptical, but slowly sets the pictures down for a moment.

She’s going to say something when Kyung’s mother interjects from where she sits in the living room, “Just throw them away then, it’s not your job to play lost and found, sweetheart.” Kyung can’t object, that would essentially be the same as outing himself, so he mutely lets his sister deal with it. When she gets up to toss the photos in the trash, it undeniably ruins his good mood.

Later in bed, Kyung concentrates on everything he and his boyfriend had done together rather than the loss of the photographs. Thinking of the week spent isolated in one another’s company, it feels that the stars have aligned, that everything is going unfathomably well for them, and Kyung is so light with the happiness of it all. 

When his world comes crashing down the next morning, somehow the brief bliss makes it all the more devastating. Taeil is outside his window before he’s even out of bed and the news is something he had never anticipated.

“Minhyuk’s been arrested.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> very short, very happy chapter, you can probably guess why ;)


	11. Tired Killings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _There are immeasurable words exchanged in the brief quiet where Jiho watches Seunghoon and likewise Seunghoon watches Jiho. For an interval of time it even appears as if there is a challenge being presented, and at any second one might launch into a frenzied grab for the other’s throat._

There’s this sensation of constantly falling that Kyung just can’t seem to shake. In hindsight, he should have known better than to form a comfortable happiness, he couldn’t have really believed anything good would last further than the allotted time it occurs in. 

He doesn’t even answer Taeil, just shuts the window hastily and heads downstairs, running past the kitchen so that his mother can’t even find the time to ask him about breakfast. 

Kyung follows Taeil wordlessly and the pressure in his head seems to build with each step. Pressing his fingers against his eyes hard so that he can see them like fingerprints of soft orange and black, he tries to usher the stress from his skull. When he opens his eyes, there is no change.

Everyone, excluding Jiho, is gathered behind a corner shop a block down from the police station, discussing things in low voices, figures curled in a conspicuous form even if they attempt it as the opposite. Kyung looks between the boys and somehow his gaze centers on Seunghoon.

“You did this,” Kyung is suddenly accusing, the words leaving his lips in a venomous bite before he can even think it through. Crowding his space, Kyung demands an answer but Seunghoon only raises his hands over his head and half laughs, “Woah, woah, calm down, kid.”

Kyung glares up at the older man, the pressure turning horrendous in the way it thuds against his temple incessantly. He knows Seunghoon is at the center of this, because how else could it be that everything was at the very least manageable before this man’s interruption in their lives? Seunghoon deceived them, led Jiho out of town to quietly dispose of Minhyuk. Kyung can’t see it any other way. 

Kyung opens his mouth to demand explanation again, fingers curled into tight fists, when he catches Jiho appear from the corner of his eye. Practically all the boys turn, even Yoon looking away from Seunghoon. “Jiho,” Kyung calls, remaining where he stands. 

Seunghoon looks away from Kyung and with an easy-going smile sighs theatrically, “Jiho, tell your little boyfriend to get off me.” Those words infuriate Kyung, the belittling tone and the inferiority that Seunghoon evidently hints at making Kyung’s skin burn with uncontrollable hate for Seunghoon. But in the second after Seunghoon says those words, when they are expectantly watching Jiho for a response to either of them, Jiho instead approaches Yukwon at a frighten pace and grips him by the collar.

The blond grips Yukwon’s collar, lifting him just slightly and choking a garbled, wordless sound from the other man. The submissive turn of Yukwon’s shoulders and the way he averts his eyes from Jiho, turns Kyung mute. Even when the other boys scramble to try and tear Jiho away, Kyung stays put. He knows those mannerisms, they’re very familiar to him. Yukwon did this, Yukwon knows he’s done this. The pressure in his head makes Kyung want to cry, but he won’t. 

“You bastard, you told me you two would stop,” Jiho practically yells, twisted the fabric of Yukwon’s shirt in his fist and thrashing it to shake the other man in an expression of how furious he’s become. He ignores the other boys as they come up to beg Jiho to let Yukwon go. Kyung watches silently, dread uncurling in his heart slowly, its fibers seeming to leech from whatever energy he has left. 

Yukwon remains speechless, refusing to utter even a single syllable in response to Jiho. Kyung shivers, watching the fierce hold Jiho has on Yukwon. In this moment, Jiho becomes a terrifying figure to Kyung, all the lovable qualities vanished from his persona to reveal the bare bones, someone Kyung is _afraid_ of. He doesn’t even realize it, but he’s taken a step away, eyes fixed on his boyfriend who has started resembling a tyrant. Kyung flinches when Jiho hisses his next words in a tone dripping with enmity, “You didn’t listen.”

Jiho lets Yukwon go, shoving him away in disgust, and everyone has turned silent to watch in awe. 

“Jiho, I’m sorry,” Yukwon tries to begin, but the glare from the other man silences Yukwon almost instantaneously. Yukwon watches cautiously, expecting something more. But then Jiho is turning away, so many questions left unanswered.

Jaehyo looks between the two, watching Jiho’s back as he walks away, then settles for staring at Yukwon. “What’d you do?’ 

There’s a tense moment where Yukwon stares back, deciding whether or not he should answer, as if it weren’t obvious he owes them some explanation. Whatever he’s done has gotten Minhyuk _arrested_ , there’s no use in trying to hide shameful deeds now. So, Yukwon does admit it, his gaze settling on the ground beneath him as he explains to them what he had done.

“It seemed like an easy out,” Yukwon argues before anyone can even begin to voice their disagreements. And he’s not wrong, it was an easy out, if luck dealt you good. Morals aside, because they’re all gradually surpassing the point of being allowed to speak morals without accepting the title of hypocrite, the decision to take the “easy out” was stupid. 

Everyone’s run out of things to say. Seunghoon finds the discussion no longer of his interest, which is fair enough, so he leaves. The older man doesn’t fail to give Kyung a falsely sympathetic grin, mocking his earlier outburst. Kyung burns with a growing dislike for him, looking away as the four leave Jiho’s boys to wallow in their suffering alone.

Yukwon runs a hand through his hair and for some reason his looking distraught makes Kyung almost annoyed. He suddenly understands Jiho, because it’s hard to feel pity for someone who brought this not only on themselves, but on the entire gang, without thinking of the repercussions they all would have to deal with. 

Realistically, Kyung knows it’s unfair to blame Yukwon entirely, because Minhyuk is an adult too, who made his own choices. But there’s no one else here to express their disappointment to, there won’t be for another two years. All because Minhyuk found an easy out, fraud, better than being stuck in this town for another year.

Maybe Kyung can understand it to some extent. This place has a stifling set of walls around it, as if he who begins here had no choice but to always return, until there was no more leaving. And for someone as Minhyuk, who had wanted to leave an entire year prior, the desperation must have turned to madness. They all know Minhyuk had wanted to leave after graduating high school, so every minute trapped doing practically _nothing_ useful must have been torturous. And maybe the same story applies to Yukwon, who had found no future in following through with school at all, and preferred to sort it out on his own so that he could take his girlfriend and finally start a life of his own. Technically, Kyung can’t judge because he’s the same as them. He wants to leave, he wants better things, he wants to do anything for happiness with Jiho. 

But they failed. It was a decision fueled by their impatience and now they’re paying the price. Minhyuk is stuck here wasting time indefinitely now. There’s no redeeming oneself after there’s a record. 

The disappointment feels unexpectedly horrid, he can barely look at Yukwon now. So, he leaves, ignoring the justifications Yukwon tries to offer. What does it matter if it felt like an easy way out, if Yukwon had grown tired of working himself to the bone, if it was at the jeopardy of their livelihoods? Kyung can’t fully see the logic to it, there’s no way it could possibly be worth having lost Minhyuk. He can’t believe they’ve done this.

Kyung feels too miserable to go home, unwilling to face the persistent bickering and nagging of his family that seems to bounce across the walls and drown out anything that actually matters. There’s only one other option.

“Jiho.”

Kyung finds him sitting outside his apartment door, face buried in his palms and elbows propped on his knees. This man is entirely new compared to who Kyung had seen moments before. He’s turned defeated and helpless, paralyzed by the stress. Kyung can understand, he thinks, because the stress makes his head hurt too. It’s a continual pounding that makes him grind his teeth and unintentionally bite reddish bruises into his bottom lip.

“Jiho, what’s going to happen now?” Kyung goes up the stairs and pushes Jiho to make space to sit. The older man doesn’t respond at first, fingers curling around locks of his own hair to pull in frustration. Kyung waits, refraining from touching Jiho because he’s not so sure how to treat Jiho when he’s like this. Usually it’s Kyung who has to be comforted.

Maybe what’s worst about this all is that they can’t blame anyone else. It was a decision made in full liberty by Minhyuk himself, and Yukwon not having been prosecuted for the same actions was only a happening of luck. Their decisions didn’t correlate to Jiho’s in anyway because although Jiho had done wrong under the law too, he had not instructed the boys to go so far as to make their sole income through unlawful means. In fact, Jiho had advised against it, because at the end of the day he has always functioned to protect his boys before all else.

There’s a new kind of discomfort with the disappointment that has come with what Yukwon and Minyuk have done. Kyung wonders how long Jiho has known, how long he’s felt this disappointment and dread. Now they can wallow in this unhappiness together. 

Jiho rubs at it his face and exhales slowly. “We’re fucked,” he groans, leaning back so that his head hits against the door. 

“Let’s go to the beach,” Kyung says.

They drive in complete silence, Jiho’s knuckles white with how hard he grips the steering wheel. Kyung knows he’s thinking about it still, and he can’t blame Jiho for that. Kyung is thinking about it all too, but to him it only grows like a heavy weight in his stomach. To Jiho there’s a different feeling. He and Minhyuk were friends for a long time. 

The two of them take a blanket and set it out on some far, isolated end of the beach, not that many people visit the strip of land during the school term anyway. Kyung holds Jiho, letting the older man rest his head on Kyung’s chest with arms wrapped around him and cheek pressed against his body. Kyung runs his fingers through Jiho’s hair absentmindedly. For a long time, they just lie there, Jiho watching the way little grasses sprung up between sand and stone wave in the cool sea breeze. Kyung watches white gulls bob in the cool blue overhead. The cold air feels refreshing, slowly chipping away at the weighty stones of grief inside of Kyung. He hopes Jiho feels similarly. 

“I wish it weren’t like this,” Jiho whispers eventually, voice small. When Kyung looks down, he sees the track of tears across Jiho’s cheek.

 

For a few days, Kyung doesn’t want to see the others. But that doesn’t mean he wants to see his old friends either. 

The second the familiar faces of his last friends appear heading towards him, Kyung thinks to turn another direction, as he has no intention of acknowledging remnants of his former life. But there’s no way to get away without making it obvious that he’s stopped associating with them intentionally.

“Hey, Kyung, we haven’t heard from you in like a year,” One of them calls, another nodding in agreement. They make it sound as if he were integral to their lives, when really his existence never mattered much to the way their group functioned. Even now, they can’t compare to how Jiho’s boys are bonded, Kyung thinks. These are more acquaintances than friends. Or maybe Jiho’s boys are more family than friends. The distinction is difficult to clarify. Funnily, even when Kyung is sick of Jiho’s boys to the extent of wanting to avoid them, he can't help but think of them in such a fond light.

Kyung shrugs, not really looking at them, “Yeah. I don’t know, been busy I guess.” When Kyung looks up at them, he realizes there’s something off about this all. It’s been _months_ , why would they seek him out now? It sets Kyung on edge, but maybe he’s become overly suspicious since having started dating Jiho.

“Busy?” They exchange glances and then Kyung thinks no, his intuition can’t really be that far off. He can’t trust anyone, certainly not these people that he only knew because he had no other choice but to spend time with them.

They try to play it off as casual, but Kyung can tell that they came to him with a specific question in mind. 

“Haven’t you been hanging out with that queer boy?” _Right_. There it is. 

Kyung takes a breath and thinks about it for a second. What he really wants is to tell them that he’s been doing more than hanging out with ‘that queer boy’. But that could eventually come back around to hurt him, considering his parents knew these boys and their families once, so they could easily report to their parents who might tell Kyung’s parents. 

So instead Kyung answers, “Yeah, I guess.” They don’t seem very satisfied with that answer, probably expecting something more entertaining. Kyung doesn’t have much else he can say. He makes his mind up to leave now, and is about to find some excuse to leave them, when one of the people he least needs to see right now arrives. 

Jiho grabs him from behind, hands unwarrantedly fumbling at his waist and then dragging down his body to feel around his hips. 

“Jiho, what’re you do-” Kyung tries to choke out, face turning warm at the way the boys half snicker and half watch with gaping mouths in shock. The way they’re watching Kyung is ridicule enough. It disgusts Kyung— makes him feel disgusting. 

His old friends laugh awkwardly, turning to leave as if now finally satisfied, one of them commenting flippantly, “God, Kyung. You’re repulsive.” Kyung wants to disappear. Or rip out Jiho’s hair. 

“Get off of me, Jiho,” Kyung yells, taking Jiho’s hands to push them away furiously. Even now when his old friends have left, he feels the shameful burn of the way they had seen him and how they must think of him now. Kyung hates Jiho for never understanding. 

Jiho lets him go and when Kyung turns to look at him, he can’t understand what Jiho is trying to do. Frustrated, Kyung catches himself still shouting when he demands, “What are you doing? Didn’t you see how they were looking?” This can’t be defined as minor annoyance, it’s much more. Kyung feels humiliated and Jiho is to blame.

The faux blond is then patting down his own pockets, searching for something, obviously not focused on what Kyung is saying. “Just listen to me,” Kyung tries again, the anger behind his voice lost now. Jiho freezes, finally meeting Kyung’ gaze.

Jiho looks at Kyung, tipping his head slightly as if genuinely confused. Worst of all, he probably is just confused. Jiho is quite daft, to the point that it’s infuriating. Sometimes Kyung wonders how someone like himself ended up with Jiho, who is so incredibly obtuse.

Kyung reiterates in a fruitless effort, “Why do you think you can touch me? Didn’t you see, didn’t you…” He can’t explain his thoughts further now, feeling choked up on how ashamed he is. Even just standing here by Jiho feels _wrong_ , he’s mortified by the thought alone that onlookers might see him with Jiho. 

“What? I thought it doesn’t matter,” Jiho responds, the lack of understanding apparent on his face. He doesn’t seem to catch the distress coming off Kyung in unmistakable signs. 

Kyung can’t find words that could express what he needs Jiho to understand, and soon enough Jiho is talking about his own concerns again, “I told the boys to give you a knife, but they flaked, I guess.” Jiho pats his own pockets in search for something again. “Should’ve known, they didn’t like the idea when I asked them either.” All this only because he was searching Kyung for a knife. 

“I don’t like it either,” Kyung begins in weak protest, shoulders sagging in defeat and voice wavering. Jiho produces a switchblade from one back pocket, and it’s not his own because Kyung has seen the older man’s own, and it is considerably more threatening just by looking at it. 

Numb and tired of arguing, Kyung just takes it. It looks misplaced in Kyung’s hand, scuffed and dented and so unlike Kyung’s hands that have never seen impurity or hardship. He looks at Jiho again. Is it selfish to wish that what happened to Minhyuk would have affected Jiho like a lesson might? Maybe it was a warning, a little tip to cut it out now, because they’re treading on dangerous ground. 

“I have to go, love you.” 

The embarrassment stings.

It’s been a long time since the discomfort has reached this extent. Kyung gets back home and his mother asks what’s wrong, where he’s been. He can’t even manage a good excuse, just chokes out “friends” as his reason of having left and makes a beeline for the bathroom.

He runs the water hot and washes his hands under the steaming liquid. But it doesn’t feel like _enough_ , because he can practically still feel the way Jiho’s hands had been there around his waist, had touched the skin there, as if that amount of proximity between two boys were okay. 

So, he starts the shower, turning the water hot as it can go and it must hurt but all he can think about is how horrible it feels to be seen the way he was today, crying pitifully at the looping conversation in his mind. It’s not until later when he’s changed and sitting alone in his room that he notices the subtle stinging across his hands. When he looks down he sees patches of skin turned to soft red and pink splotches where he has rubbed his hands raw. 

He sees it as an excuse not to finish any homework when really, he wouldn’t have done it anyways. He doesn’t feel too well.

Next morning, he casts a quick glance over the blade Jiho had given him, mulls it over, and then makes up his mind before hurrying out the door. 

Going to school feels odd now. It makes Kyung feel so much younger than Jiho, when really there is only one short year between the two of them. That year feels stretched into multitudes ever since Jiho dropped out. It feels like Jiho never went to school with them.

It shouldn’t be a big deal, but it becomes growingly bothersome as the days of Taeil and Jaehyo’s release from the school nears, too. Soon it will be just Kyung and Jihoon and the new boys, the latter two being people he doesn’t even care for much anyways. Maybe it’s that and a combination of Seunghoon and Jinwoo being new additions to his company that makes him feel so small. Maybe things feel wrong now that Minhyuk is gone, making something shifted in their group.

Over lunch Kyung catches himself asking Taeil, “What’re you guys gonna do after graduating?” The shorter boy thinks about it for a moment before answering with an uncertain shrug.

“Take a gap year, figure stuff out. I’m not the real smart type so more school’s a bust.” 

Kyung nods, glances to Jaehyo who gives a similar response, something about how having a job here is better than no job somewhere else. The confirmation that neither of them are fully leaving comes as a big relief to Kyung. 

“You,” Taeil directs his attention to Jihoon to grab him and mess with his hair, “Stay out of trouble when we’re not around.” They’re all laughs, though Jihoon makes sure to point out that he’s always been the more sensible one. Taeil continues threatening anyway, Jihoon still held around the neck, “Yeah, but I’d be really mad if you got yourself in any stupid business the second we left.” Kyung thinks they’re already in plenty of stupid business. 

Kyung glances to Mino and Yoon and wonders if they ever feel left out. Probably not, they have one another as company, and Mino gets along with Jihoon pretty well too. Really, it’s Jihoon who has it worst. Eventually, though it feels ages away, Kyung, Mino and Yoon will graduate too, leaving Jihoon on his own. 

He’s caught up in thoughts like that when Jaehyo flicks his forehead. “Hey, nerd. I said we’re going to hang with Jiho and them after school. Come with.” It’s not really an offer to join, so Jaehyo doesn’t bother phrasing it that way either. They’ve come to learn there’s rarely ever a moment Kyung would pass up a chance to see Jiho.

Jiho and them means Jiho and Yukwon and Seunghoon. All people that he could live without seeing right now. “I don’t know,” Kyung starts, avoiding eye contact.

“You’re coming with us, alright,” Jihoon says in a rare appearance of assertiveness. Kyung raises an eyebrow.

“We’re getting too split up, especially with Minhyuk... just come, okay?” 

Kyung looks at Jihoon for a moment longer and he feels that familiar pang of something he can’t quite name. He’s really come to care about these people so much, seeing Jihoon affected by Minhyuk’s arrest renews Kyung’s stamina. He’ll deal with unfavorable company to keep things steady with the gang.

At first Kyung tries to avoid Jiho, clinging to Jihoon a little more than usual. And for a while it’s a pretty good solution. Jiho tries to take Kyung’s attention but when he gets brushed off he doesn’t push it, instead finding conversation elsewhere. They’re walking around the corner to the stairs of their parking garage when Jiho tries it again. The second rebuff has his morale killed, Kyung can tell by the way he watches Kyung forlornly despite walking on the opposite side of the pavement. The confused looks and the stress evidently eating away at Jiho satisfies Kyung, it quenches his unnoticed desire to make his lover suffer. 

Seunghoon stops them at the space before the stairs and the urge to run fills Kyung. It’s not that he’s simply come to associate this place with bad news, he can tell by Seunghoon’s having stopped that something more important than a simple walk to the second story is happening today. But he can’t tell what. Times like this his intuition seems useless when all it does is provide unexplained anxiety.

“We should get drinks,” Seunghoon suggests slowly, one hand on the railing of the stairs. He points his gaze at Jiho, and to Kyung’s frustration, his boyfriend volunteers to go. It doesn’t feel right because it seems that that was exactly what Seunghoon wanted. 

Everyone else is proceeding up the stairs then, casual chatter between them. Kyung is torn between submitting to the desire to take the easy way out, following everyone else up the stairs in a facade of ignorance, or going after Jiho solely because he feels something might be off.

Kyung throws one last glance at the stairs and then runs after Jiho, turning the corner in a hurry to catch up.

When Jiho notices Kyung following, he’s unusually hesitant, glancing away from the ground to mumble, “Kyungie?” The timid qualities that have been brought out of Jiho is nice, Kyung thinks. 

“Are you mad at me?” Jiho steps away from Kyung as the younger boy settles in pace beside him, giving him space. Kyung can’t decide how he feels about that. Sure, it feels good to know he has leverage over Jiho, but the results aren’t as controlled as he’d have liked. He can’t tell how he feels about Jiho shifting away. 

Kyung looks at Jiho even though the older man is avoiding eye contact. “I guess.” 

Jiho nods slowly, risking looking at Kyung. They’re walking past the desolate back alleys of the stores, headed for the next corner shop. They’re alone. Jiho reaches for Kyung’s hand and Kyung lets him take it.

“I’m sorry,” Jiho says, running a thumb over his boyfriend’s hand in circles. Kyung winces at the way the raw scrapes across his hand hurt at the friction. 

At the reaction, Jiho lets go of Kyung’s hand then takes it again, noticing the sore spots where Kyung has rubbed the skin ragged. “Kyung, what happened?” 

Kyung shakes his head and pulls his hand away, looking the other direction. They’re halfway now, almost to the corner store yet a little too far for comfort. Kyung just wants to get back to the other boys already, he still feels uneasy. 

He walks several steps ahead of Jiho, not saying anything. Jiho doesn’t try to approach the topic again.

When they get into the liquor store, Jiho lingers by Kyung for a moment, arm hovering around his waist before giving a hesitant hug and finding his hand to press their palms together for a moment. Then Jiho goes straight to the drinks. While he stands before the refrigerator doors thinking, Kyung walks down another one of the aisles, eyes skimming over the colorful packaging of candies and other snacks. Before disappearing down the two shelves, Kyung throws a glance over his shoulder, noticing the way the store owner who stands at the register eyes him with contempt. 

Otherwise, the store is relatively empty, save for two men who are similar in age to Kyung and Jiho. The pair hang around at the front counter, taking their time in paying as they carry a flippant conversation with the cashier. Kyung glances back at the sound of their voices continuing on, feeling the tension wrapping tighter around himself. There’s something untrustworthy about most everyone these days. 

“Jiho?” Kyung finds himself hurrying down the aisle, in a rush to turn the corner and see his boyfriend. When he gets around and meets Jiho at the other side of the shelves, the older man looks baffled. Behind him, the pair at the counter have gained an interest in glancing at Kyung too, they’re heads just barely in view as they peak over Jiho to notice him.

“Hey, aren’t you the fags who think you’re hot shit these days?” Kyung shivers, quickly averting his gaze and trying to concentrate on Jiho’s face. He wants the older man to comfort him, speak one of his usual unfulfilled promises about how he’ll take care of them all. But Jiho only stares back, half bent over to lift a case of beer, eyebrows furrowed and posture stiff. Kyung lets his gaze drop to the thin gold chain around Jiho’s neck, watching the way it remains suspended in air, the cross swinging loosely. That’s how he feels. Like a little, insignificant figure barely kept from plummeting. 

Jiho drops the beers and closes the fridge door, straightening up slowly. He runs a hand through greasy blond hair and turns to look at the men.

“Yeah.”

There’s something revolting about how _hot_ Kyung finds that, how the venomous tension and low ferocity of Jiho’s voice sends excitement running down his spine. There’s an electrifying exhilaration holding the air taut like the muscles in Jiho’s back that are hidden under the black leather of his jacket. It disgusts him how much he’s come to love the brief highs of moments like these. 

He’s afraid and he’s thrilled both at once. But he wouldn’t admit the latter, and honestly the former does win out between the two. All his desires for a couple kicks doesn’t drown out the fact that Kyung is nowhere near as stupid as Jiho and the other boys. He’s interested in staying alive.

So, the second the other two men turn threatening, all of Kyung’s eagerness vanishes and he steps back just slightly. 

One of them hits Jiho so fast that it takes Kyung a full second even afterwards to fully comprehend what has happened, so it’s no shock that Jiho wasn’t able to anticipate it to begin with. The man behind the counter looks unbothered, and when Kyung makes eye contact with him he has the audacity to simply shrug, as if what is happening is of no concern to him. Kyung knows why he doesn’t care.

Jiho wipes at the blood just beginning to gather at his nose when a hand takes him by his collar and drags him forward, an arm closing around his neck to restrain him. Kyung watches, frozen in panic. He remains in the doorway, watching as they continue to harass Jiho outside. 

Maybe it’s only thirty seconds that pass. Maybe it’s entire minutes. The thing about adrenaline, and moments such as these, is that there’s no way of really knowing. No matter how frequently Kyung finds themselves caught in predicaments of this nature, he can never gauge the way time passes. All he knows is that it feels quick in the way things escalate suddenly, but incredibly slow in the rate of his reflexes.

The man at the counter is reaching for a phone. Kyung notices that almost instantly and takes the initiative to shove the phone off the desk, sending a container of lollipops with it. Submerged in chaos, Kyung can’t make sense of anything, but that felt like a necessary action. He’s sure that the story would be reported with Jiho as the provoker, and the last thing he needs is for Jiho to get in trouble for inciting violence.

Then he’s rushing out the door too. A cold terror strikes him at the sight of Jiho being held down by his arms, struggling in vain to break away. He’s mad at Jiho but he doesn’t want Jiho to get hurt. Honestly, he can’t even remember being mad at Jiho, all he can think is that he wants them to get off of him.

He can’t think of anything to do, there’s not enough time to. So, he does what comes to mind first. 

It takes another long moment of scrambling to figure it out, the long sleeves of his button-down getting caught in the way and panic making his hands shake. He blames the paranoia for the familiar figure he catches a glimpse of further down the walkway. 

Dispelling all thoughts so that his one focus is Jiho, he scrambles to the three in a messy hurry, drawing their attention. It has become so easy to turn Jiho the center of all his thoughts, his vision, his very being. He barely notices how there’s an irreversible decision being made here, how he’s committed himself to a lifestyle that was never meant for him. Kyung has always said that this is trouble not for boys as himself, but for boys like Jiho. Yet here he is. 

That man, his hand is closed around Jiho’s throat. And Kyung is so afraid. What if Jiho can’t breathe? What will he do if they break his neck in the turbulent squabbling? Kyung is terrified. 

He takes the switchblade from earlier, that he had fleetingly decided to carry that morning, and with eyes closed tight drives it through that man’s other hand.

It’s so frightening. He can’t look away, but it’s disgusting. He didn’t think it would go _all the way through_. He hadn’t anticipated the horrid screeching either, or the way his hands are slick with warmth and red too. 

Numb but still functioning, even if just barely, Kyung feels for Jiho’s hand and holds tight, pulling him up so that they can leave. Jiho falls after him, disoriented. 

Kyung practically drags Jiho back the way they came, noticing Seunghoon waiting at the wall of the parking garage. Kyung is not insane, he really did notice the man watching earlier too. If he weren’t paralyzed with shock, he’d have the sense to be angry. 

One street before the parking garage, Kyung yanks Jiho’s arm and pulls him down another alley and pushes him against the wall forcefully.

Kyung doesn’t even realize it but he’s near tears as he babbles, “Jiho, are you okay?” He cups Jiho’s face and then lets go only to push the older man’s hair back before bringing his hands to cradle Jiho’s face again. 

“It’s okay, I’m okay,” Jiho shushes, pushing Kyung away gently, bringing his own hand up to touch at the little streaks of blood Kyung has left across his chin. When he brings his hand away he concentrates on the thin layer of blood that just barely tints one finger. He’s about to say something when the two catch sight of someone run by them, followed by several other figures.

Kyung grabs Jiho’s arm when the older man leans over to peer around the wall at what’s going on. There’s a commotion, several of their own boys there now with Seunghoon, who is looking over them with an arrogant, conceited air about him. That one man is gripping his hand in an agony so evident by the way his face has twisted in horror. Kyung feels ill thinking about it, knowing he caused that. Sickened by it, he tries to hastily wipe the red stains from his hands but only succeeds in smudging dried red streaks across the front of his white school shirt. Now it’s unmistakable that he’s done this. 

“Let’s go,” Jiho whispers, taking Kyung’s hand and tugging him along. Kyung follows, hiding behind the faux blond meekly. 

When they come up to the conflict, Kyung notices the store owner has come out too, threatening to call the police. Seunghoon doesn’t pay him any attention, only lets the man ramble continuously. Kyung looks over Jiho’s shoulder, getting on his toes to do so. 

“It’s them, you two,” The man with a bloodied fist screams, pointing one finger at Kyung and Jiho, “You’re in trouble!” Seunghoon snorts and rolls his eyes, and Jiho doesn’t seem shaken either, but Kyung feels the threat settle onto his collection of ever growing worries. Another thought to keep him awake at night.

Seunghoon stretches his arms over his head, shirt lifting, and cracks his joints. “Just get lost,” He suggests, exasperation and disinterest turning his tone aloof. 

They can’t argue, there’s more of Jiho’s boys than theirs present so any more conflict would be a death wish. That, and the store owner’s voice is becoming unbearably annoying to listen to, is enough to have them leave it at that, spitting a few hollow sounding threats before leaving. Kyung clings to Jiho tight even when those men are out of sight.

Seunghoon turns to Kyung and Jiho, one hand playing with a chain linked to his belt. “Well, damn, Kyung. You’re really one of us,” Seunghoon laughs, eyeing Kyung up and down. The words send a chill down Kyung’s spine, denial instantly caught in his throat as he wants to dispel even the beginnings of implications as such. He wants to kill the idea at the root that he might be fit for trouble like boys as them. 

Maybe his mistake had always been trying to categorize them. It’s possible he had always been flawed in trying to separate himself from Jiho. There are no boys like Jiho and boys like Kyung, they're one of a kind. They're from the same origins, the same type, the same entity. Kyung is wholly one of them.

“Leave him alone,” Jiho interrupts, an arm coming around Kyung’s waist to pull him close. Kyung immediately presses himself against Jiho, face pressed to his side. A silent moment passes with Seunghoon watching the two with an amused grin before raising his eyebrows and conceding, “Alright, whatever you say.” 

The walk back, Jiho rubs Kyung’s back in a rhythmic pattern, one that could never mirror the discordant rate of his breathing. Once they’re all at the bottom of the stairs again, Kyung pulls away from Jiho, saying, “I’m going to go home.”

Seunghoon over hears and stops with one foot on the first step, looking back to tut and shake his head. “Not looking like that, not everybody’s gotta know good boy’s turned bad.” Kyung follows the older man’s gaze to where it falls on his dirtied shirt and frowns. He hates Seunghoon talking about him like this. 

This time Jiho doesn’t say anything, though it’s certain that Seunghoon doesn’t miss the sharp glare Jiho gives. Not that it bothers Seunghoon, he’d keep going if he had wanted to.

No argument left to be had, Kyung follows them up the stairs, holding Jiho’s hand again. If there’s one good thing that comes from this all, it’s that now Kyung can’t even remember ever having been mad at Jiho. There are worse things to think about now and people he’s angrier with. Jiho is spared that misery for now. 

When they get up to the top, Jinwoo is leaned against one pillar from where he gives a smirk and calls, “How did it go?” Seunghoon shrugs, as if nothing significant had happened. How can he pretend nothing has changed when Kyung has just been forced into committing himself to the same standards as the rest of them?

Glancing back at Kyung, Seunghoon answers, “Baby boy just got his hands dirty.” Jinwoo laughs, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth as if the sound is anything but pretty. 

“Don’t call me that,” Kyung spits, skin crawling. The term is revolting to hear from Seunghoon’s mouth, it’s nauseating and foul. He absolutely hates it. 

Everyone else settles around, Jiho’s boys on the couch watching wordlessly while Yoon and Mino linger around Jinwoo, equally as quiet. 

Seunghoon looks at Kyung again, casting that pretentious gaze over the younger boy again as if he’s not worth more time. Then he looks to Jinwoo once more and Kyung knows he’s lost again. 

“I didn’t expect that,” Jinwoo points out. 

Jiho speaks then, “What did you expect?” 

There’s a tense exchange of glances between Seunghoon and Jinwoo, one that makes it apparent they were aware of more than Jiho and Kyung were about whatever they’ve just done. Then Seunghoon looks to Jiho and tells, “I saw those two men when we were walking over, I just wanted to know if they recognized you, since you’ve been so big on trouble lately. I didn’t think Kyung would go with you.” 

The realization strikes Jiho harsh, and instantly he’s shouting, “Fuck you, you prick-” 

From the couch, Yukwon looks up and the other boys follow suit, a stiffness in their postures as they wait for the tension to escalate into something more. Even Yoon stops talking for a moment, watching between the two men.

“No one got too hurt, Jiho,” Seunghoon argues in his usual detached manner, “Well, no one important, at least.” 

The strain being put on them is becoming risky, which Kyung is sure the others must have noticed by now, too. Regarding that, it seems better to simply let it go. Kyung pulls at Jiho’s arm. “Let’s just go, Jiho. I have to go home anyway.” He doesn’t want Jiho to cause anymore disorder for his sake, there’s already enough agitation adding up in their relationship as a whole group. 

Jiho nods slowly, tearing his stare from Seunghoon to look at Kyung. “Okay.” 

Yukwon and Taeil end up walking with Jiho and Kyung to where Jiho’s car is parked. For a moment it seems as if Yukwon wants to say something, but he doesn’t. 

Kyung goes through Jiho’s closet and finds one of his old button-downs from when he went to school. It’s huge on Kyung, the sleeves swallowing his hands in it so that only his fingertips peak from under the cuffs, and he has a hard time tucking all of the excess fabric in. When he steps out of the bedroom wearing it, Jiho goes to hold him, smiling almost shyly. 

“You look so cute,” he begins, eyes squinting as he tries and fails to stop grinning so big. 

Kyung pulls away. “Don’t touch me.” 

 

It’s May and the days are warm in full, the sun setting later so that the walk home isn’t shrouded in unwelcoming blue shadows anymore. When Kyung gets home it’s still early enough that he hasn’t missed dinner, which is a pleasant surprise to his family. No one questions how his shirt has gotten considerably bigger than it had been when he left earlier that morning.

Frustrated with how everything has been lately, he ignores assignments that desperately need attention in favor of dragging out old magazines from under his bed. For a long time he sits and flips through the pages, stopping at pictures of pretty girls who stand out most. They’re lovely, faces painted like dolls with matte red lips and dramatic, big eyes outlined with black. Kyung wonders why he can’t like them more. He’s certain that they’re all very beautiful, posed with extreme precision and dressed so that their waists are so small and the curves of their figures are carved out neatly against bold backdrops. But it’s not enough to keep him from Jiho.

Why does he even like Jiho? From the moment Kyung met him, he should’ve known he was nothing but trouble. Kyung scolds himself for ever thinking it was a good idea to let himself like Jiho so much. It was foolish to start holding hands and kissing and doing all those things because he can’t ever go back.

These girls are pretty, but they can’t compare to Jiho. Jiho is handsome in an undeniably masculine light, the harsh angles of his jaw and the line of his neck so tempting to trace. Kyung likes the deep voice and the toned arms and rough hands of this man more than the delicate women shown in the pictures. He wishes that weren’t true.

Everything would be easier if he didn’t love Jiho.

When Kyung sees Jiho again, it’s not until several days later, on a Friday. He doesn’t really plan to visit Jiho, he’s been successfully avoiding everyone but the school boys. It’s something that Taeil says that tips off a hint of concern in him.

“I passed by Jiho’s place the other day, his car looks like it’s been sat there all week, you seen him?” Taeil looks at Kyung expectantly, dismayed when Kyung shakes his head.

“Don’t worry, I’ll go check up on him today,” Kyung reassures. 

Kyung has to wait about five minutes before Jiho responds to his knocking at the door. When the door does swing open, it’s dark inside, and there’s a blanket bunched up on the couch. Jiho looks bad.

His hair is a mess, half black now from the way it’s been growing out, and greasy. His skin looks oily too, face swollen and lips puffy and chapped as if he had just woken up, yet retaining a sunken look around his eyes. 

“Jiho, are you okay?” Kyung glances behind Jiho again, looking again at the sleeping arrangement made on the couch. Then he looks back at Jiho, who runs a hand through his hair and squeezes his eyes shut. 

Question left unanswered, Jiho returns to the couch, leaning back and closing his eyes. Kyung shuts the door and looks over the table, stopping when he notices several papers in a disheveled pile. He lifts one, then another, skimming through the words and numbers. They’re overdue bills for utilities and the most recent, an upcoming rent notice.

Turning slowly back to the couch, Kyung cautiously questions, “What’s with all this?” Jiho looks half asleep again. 

“I’m fucking broke,” drawls the older man, one arm draped over the back of the couch. 

Kyung sets the papers down and hurries to settle beside Jiho. “Have you eaten lately?” 

“I don’t have the money to.” 

For a moment Kyung is annoyed again, that’s all he ever feels about Jiho when they’re together these days. It’s just issue after issue piling up, countless problems that Jiho is forming for Kyung to solve. And not once has Jiho yet gone back to properly end the already ongoing dilemmas his former idiocies have influenced.

But then when he looks at Jiho again he feels immediately sorry for thinking that way. His boyfriend looks utterly helpless, caught in inescapable despair as his situation worsens. He needs help and Kyung has been selfish too. No matter how he thinks it might be, Jiho is not all that older than him. They’re both practically children in the scope of the world, and working against one another in petty arguments is leading nowhere. In fact, all the grudges Kyung is holding have gradually revealed themselves to be one sided, Jiho doesn’t even understand what he’s done wrong. Holding him accountable is counterproductive. They should take about it, but later. 

Kyung takes Jiho hand and maneuvers his fingers so that their fingers are laced together. “Wait here, I’ll be back,” He mumbles, leaning forward to press a kiss to Jiho’s forehead even if he is gross. He takes the keys from the table before leaving.

The walk to the closest supermarket is still a considerable distance; Jiho’s place is a shabby little thing in a relatively desolate area, which is fair considering it’s all that Jiho can afford. On the way, Kyung tries to reasonably sort out the things he’ll discuss with Jiho once he’s feeling better. First, they’ll talk about how Jiho should know his boundaries and then they’ll talk about Seunghoon. Kyung thinks those are priorities, right after he convinces Jiho to find a job. 

When he’s paying for the groceries he’s picked out, the old woman at the register smiles at him and comments, “Not a lot of young boys do groceries.” Kyung smiles back and nods. She’s taking his money then when she prompts further, “Cooking something for your girlfriend?” Kyung nods again.

“Yeah.”

Kyung gets back to the apartment to find Jiho asleep again. He doesn’t bother waking his boyfriend, instead pausing by Jiho only to tuck him in better and press a soft kiss to his cheek before tiptoeing to the kitchen. He waits until he’s done cooking to wake Jiho, gently shaking the blond’s shoulder and whispering his name.

They eat together, cross legged on the couch sharing a blanket. When Kyung sets his bowl down to look at the documents from earlier, Jiho leans his head against Kyung’s shoulder to watch tiredly. They talk it through, and slowly Kyung has Jiho affirmed on the decision to find a job tomorrow. 

“I’m really lucky to have you,” Jiho whispers at some point, turning his head just slightly to kiss under Kyung’ ear. Kyung can’t help but blush, as if they haven’t been dating for months. 

Trying not to make his flustered state obvious, Kyung rolls his eyes and responds, “Go take a shower.” Jiho obliges, pausing to kiss Kyung, and Kyung anticipates it so he tips his head back just as Jiho leans down. 

Kyung considers going home for barely a second, though he takes the time to pretend that he needs any convincing to stay. It’s been a week away from Jiho, and even if it was at his own will, now that they’re together he doesn’t want to be apart again so soon. His feelings for Jiho are, admittedly, getting very confusing.

Jiho takes too long in the shower, Kyung decides, so he ends up taking his school work to Jiho’s room. He lays across the bed, penciling in answers to assignments he’s otherwise put off. Oddly, he feels comfortable enough here in Jiho’s apartment to finally start work that’s needed attendance for some time now. He’s so immersed that he doesn’t even notice Jiho get out of the shower.

The older man disappears into the other room for some time, later returning to settle down beside Kyung and look over his work. Kyung looks up briefly, pressing the plastic end of his pencil to his lips.

“Don’t you ever miss doing things like this?” He doesn’t mean the endless repetitions of equations or the watching-plants-grow for the sake of science lab procedures that plague high school students. There were other things that came with being a student, things that weren’t so boring. 

“I dunno.”

Kyung sets his pencil down atop the open notebook. “Not even like, art and literature?”

Jiho flops over with a heavy sigh, directing his vision on the ceiling instead now. Kyung thinks maybe he’s struck a nerve. 

“Yeah. I guess I liked those things.” Kyung didn’t really need Jiho to tell him that, it was always obvious Jiho liked to read, and that his excessive care over pieces required to be completed for class was more than just in pursuit of good grades. Sometimes Kyung likes to think that if he and Jiho were from a softer time, maybe from some remote, exclusive village, Jiho would write him love letters resembling poetry. 

Kyung goes back to finishing his school work. There’s still a vague tension between them, arguments from earlier that week prodding at the back of Kyung’s mind. They’re quiet the rest of the evening, besides for an essay that Kyung requests Jiho’s insight on. Kyung runs his fingers through Jiho’s hair, hand stopping at Jiho’s neck as he scratches gently at Jiho’s hairline while he drones on about some technical fallacies. 

“I have to go now,” Kyung says eventually, sitting up and sliding books into his bag. Jiho doesn’t move, remaining limp across the mattress. 

Jiho watches him, still lost in a haze of other thoughts. “Are we okay?” It feels like they’re okay. But all they’re really doing is ignoring issues, adding to the ever-growing collection of stifled conversations straining their relationship. Dating is hard. 

Kyung shakes his head and gets up, slinging his bag over his shoulders. He doesn’t want Jiho to think everything is resolved when it’s not. He stands in the doorway and declares flatly, “I hate Lee Seunghoon.” 

“I know you do.”  
“I’ve thought about breaking up with you.” 

The look of alarm on Jiho’s face makes Kyung’s heart jump. Why did he have to ruin this? He should’ve gone home feeling content with their evening together, letting it remain an untouched moment. 

“I have to go home,” Kyung repeats, bending down to put on his shoes because that way he no longer has to look at Jiho. “Get a job, okay?” They’ll talk later. They have to, because Kyung couldn’t have let Jiho believe they were faring fine now. 

He walks home thinking of all the ways he loves Jiho, and then of all the ways he hates him too. There are so many feelings cocooned safely in his heart for Jiho, thousands of little slips of paper stuffed there with a hundred confessions written to each. If only he had someone to confess those thoughts to in the same way his peers could, but no one can even know about this relationship, let alone the complications of it. Of course, there’s the brief desire to find Jihoon and go on a long spiel to him about the enraging stupidity of Jiho, but that would only be a burden that their youngest does not deserve. It’s better everyone stays convinced they aren’t slowly decomposing. 

Lately, Jiho feels like a burden himself.

Slipping in through his home’s door unnoticed, Kyung skips dinner and heads for his room, earning himself a disapproving frown from his sister. He can’t find any excuses to provide her, instead entrusting her with a secret as he brings his fingers to his lips to ask for another promise of silence. She nods. 

Kyung lays in bed and flips through more magazines, trying to find anything that catches his interest, but none of it is particularly striking anymore now that he knows he can have men. The realization makes him miserable. 

 

Some days Kyung thinks to ask Yoon or Mino about what happened with the mysterious Nam Taehyun, but he can’t find the courage to bring it up, so he never does. He’s sure whatever it is, it must have been bad. Everything to do with Seunghoon and his boys seems bad. 

The distance between himself and Jiho only expands with each day. There is always an additional pressure on their relationship since that week. Although things seem grim, at the very least, Jiho had kept to his word and found employment again, though Kyung couldn’t be sure where. When he had asked Jihoon for details on it, the younger boy refused to share, explaining that Jiho did not want it disclosed. The secrets made Kyung bitter, but he still makes sure to stop by every so often to make sure Jiho is still eating.

Kyung has been meaning to ask Yukwon about work too, but he’s too afraid to. The possibility that Yukwon has not yet abandoned his former ways is too high, thus deterring Kyung from seeking any answers. Gradually Minhyuk falls into the past, and as he does, they abandon the ill feelings they had kept towards Yukwon. But no one fully forgets, because there is always that vacant space where their friend had been. 

Lunch time has been relatively untouched by the chaos of the group’s activities outside of school. Kyung still can’t help but think of times when Jiho used to sit beside him, thigh pressed to thigh, as they shared food and conversation. Those were better times. Thinking of then, Kyung really misses being close to Jiho. 

Whenever they walk up the stairs to the parking garage’s second story, which is becoming an increasingly frequent occurrence, Kyung can’t keep images of the man he had stabbed from his mind. The moment haunts him at times least expected, too. Sitting in class, swinging his legs idly and watching the board with an unfocussed stare, he might envision the bloodied hand again. Or when he’s changing into his uniform after gym he might hear that familiar shrieking echoing against the metal lockers. No matter how often he sees that action redone in his mind, he can’t find any remorse. 

They go out for lunch as a collective of merged groups more often than not now. When Kyung gets in the passenger seat of Jiho’s car, Jiho always leans over to kiss his cheek. Kyung isn’t ready to talk yet, so they keep pretending nothing ever happened.

One evening Kyung is sitting on the dirty couch in the parking garage with only Jihoon as company. He has one leg hooked over the arm of the couch, back leaned against Jihoon, and a book held in hand that he’s barely concentrated on. It’s hot and he’s wishing he had worn shorts. If Jiho would hurry up and get back, then he could go to his apartment and take a cold shower, but instead a promise of thirty minutes has unsurprisingly stretched into hours. 

The boys are clamoring up the stairs and Kyung is half asleep, when they finally return. Kyung sits up just barely, cheek pressed against Jihoon’s shoulder. 

“Jiho?”

They’re a mess. Kyung can’t even decide who to focus on first, skipping between eyeing Yukwon’s swollen cheek and trying to make sense of the mess Taeil has made his hands. Even Jaehyo is sporting a freshly forming bruise under one eye. Only Jinwoo looks unaffected by whatever business they’ve returned from. 

Everyone appears reasonably tired, besides Yoon who punches the air in excitement, encouraged by the attention Mino gives him. For whatever reason, that annoys Kyung. When Yoon turns to Seunghoon to proudly present the nick he’s earned on one cheek, Kyung scoffs. Seungoon has nothing but praise for Yoon, patting his shoulder and showering him in the attention he craves.

Finally, Kyung settles for looking at Jiho. He’s messy, hair mussed and windblown in a way that makes him an image of the perfect teenage heart throb of Kyung’s fantasies. Jiho is lucky that for Kyung, that detracts from the little cuts Jiho has earned on one side of his face.

“I’ll clean everyone up,” Kyung obliges tiredly, dragging a box from under the couch that has over the past few weeks become a treasure trove of first aid materials. Kyung makes sure to glare at Seunghoon before beginning mercilessly on cleaning his bloodied knuckles. The older man looks too smug for his own good, Kyung thinks.

Kyung is mute until he reaches Jiho, crouching down to meet him at eye level where he sits on the ground. He makes sure to go heavy on the cleaning, inspecting carefully how Jiho’s expressions change when the antiseptic burns at the raw wounds. “Why’d you do this?” 

Jiho flinches at Kyung’s tone, though the younger boy pretends it’s the stinging of the cotton swab pressed to his face that draws that reaction. 

“Hey, baby,” Seunghoon interrupts, stopping besides Kyung with his own half-finished drink held out, “Drink.” 

Kyung looks away from Jiho’s face, eyeing the drink then Seunghoon. “Stop calling me that.” Kyung looks back to Jiho, trying his best to ignore Seunghoon and return to the task at hand. That appears the end of that, but then Jiho suddenly swats the can out of Seunghoon’s hand, sending a hollow echo across the concrete structure of the lot and drawing everyone’s attention for a second. 

“Fuck off,” the blond snaps, taking Kyung’s hand and pulling him up as he stands. Shocked into silence, Kyung obeys numbly, rising as Jiho does and watching Seunghoon for some reaction.

There are immeasurable words exchanged in the brief quiet where Jiho watches Seunghoon and likewise Seunghoon watches Jiho. For an interval of time it even appears as if there is a challenge being presented, and at any second one might launch into a frenzied grab for the other’s throat. But they don’t, there’s nothing but a diplomatic conversation that only lacks sound before Seunghoon lets the tension drain like blood from a slaughtered chicken’s neck. Messy and lingering, yet meaningless. No hard feelings.

“Alright.”

Kyung looks to Jiho who returns the stare, and he thinks to say something, but finds no words that could express what he wants to say. In fact, he’s not sure if anything needed to be said at all, just that he wishes there was a way to breach this gap between them because there is evident love still festering between them. 

Slowly Kyung grows accustomed to all the fighting, too. Just like he learned to move with the reckless eccentricities of Jiho’s boys, he learns to live with the violence of Seunghoon’s few. Existing in a pack revolves around adjusting and compromising, learning to live in ways previously never once thought of. And in the volatile, adventurous lifestyle of these boys, Kyung gradually earns his place, and even slower learns of it. 

Kyung can’t remember how long he has been dating Jiho. They met in August, he knows that much, but from there the lines begin to blur. He’s too faint of heart to try and trace the history of their relationship, afraid that he’ll come across some truth amidst his search of the past. What if he notices the dramatic turn in their expression of feelings and finds that he really would be happier without Jiho?

On a hot Sunday night, Kyung gets home late from a party with the school boys, leaving them with the advice to stay out of trouble. He doubts they’ll listen. But he can’t hold that against them, they don’t know any better.

Before leaving them, he had found themselves drunkenly navigating the touchy subject of how people like Kyung and Jiho might fit into the world. Just barely tipsy on the minimal alcohol high schoolers can sneak to a party, the words turned only slurred slightly, but still honest and with a twinkling clarity to them. 

“We won’t let them have you ever, Kyung,” Jaehyo had confessed, not really looking at Kyung as he spoke. There’s no context, but Kyung thinks he understands. There’s only so many things those words could mean, and Kyung supposes he knows who Jaehyo refers to when he says ‘them’. He’s awfully grateful for that, even if it is another empty promise, because that’s all these boys have to offer anyway. The sentiment makes him soft as all reminder of their care for him do. 

So, he’s tired when he gets home. That’s emotionally heavy stuff, as if he hasn’t collected enough of it already. He lays in bed and listens to the fighting of his parents beyond the closed door, hearing his name muffled by the walls but surely being shouted as accusations fly. _It’s your fault for letting him go out so often_ and _maybe if you had pressured him to volunteer at the Church with his brother_ and a multitude of other silly notions. None of that could ever change how things are now, Kyung thinks. They’d just be distractions from the single thing that matters to Kyung: Jiho. 

Hollow knocks at the window interrupt the chorus of arguing beyond Kyung’ door. He lifts himself from where he lies and watches the glass pane for a moment before mustering the energy to pry it open. And standing there at the bottom of the wall is his one and only, his dearest lover. 

“Jiho,” Kyung calls, leaning against the window sill and looking out so the gentle night time breeze brushes through his hair. He holds out a hand as if the distance between them could vanish that easily. 

Jiho climbs in clumsily, so that it is in no way romantic and lovely, but Kyung finds it as such anyway. “I missed you,” whispers the blond, and Kyung silences him with a kiss. He pulls away just barely to whisper, “Quiet, my parents are still awake.” 

For an hour they sit quietly, waiting for the rest of the house’s inhabitants to settle down. Right now is a good time to talk, Kyung thinks. He’s missed Jiho too. He doesn’t want to continue this arguing. Later, Kyung leaves Jiho to inspect the downstairs room, ensuring everyone has gone. 

Kyung returns to seeing Jiho standing over his desk, concentrated on something there. His heart sinks. 

The older man turns to look at Kyung, confusion and panic twisting his usual relaxed smiles into something frightened. Kyung shuts the door and hears Jiho instantly questioning, “Is this why you want to break up?” 

_Oh. _He forgot he had even said that to Jiho.__

__Kyung steps towards him, shaking his head and reaching for Jiho’s hands to take the thing he’s looking at, the magazine, away. The hurt is written clear across Jiho’s face, unsurprisingly pulling the magazines away from Kyung._ _

__Jiho stares incredulously at the open pages of women posed sensually and dressed scandalously. “You- I don’t get it, you like, you like stuff like this?”_ _

__“I mean-” the second Kyung starts, he can see Jiho further crumbling under the implications. “I don’t know, Jiho, does it matter?” Once the words have left his mouth, Kyung reprimands himself bitterly, wondering why he said such a thing rather than reassuring Jiho of his undaunted interest in none other but him._ _

__Young flames of envy paint Jiho in a new light, illuminating him with the bare essence of love and human being: jealousy and fragility. His eyes are wide and glassy almost, words of accusation and conflicted feelings turning him vulnerable before Kyung._ _

__In his climbing anxiety, Jiho curls and folds the papers between his fingers. “I’m not- you’re not just, I don’t know. Experimenting, are you?” Some realization comes to Jiho as he speaks, the thoughts forming in parallel to his words. “Fuck. Oh my God. You don’t care, do you? You’ve just been bored or something.”_ _

__That stings. Probably because it’s not entirely wrong, Kyung _did_ stick around with Jiho because he was bored. But that was before he had even thought of the possibility of a relationship between them. Things have changed since then, Kyung is sure. _ _

__He wants to say something, but he physically can’t, or at least it feels that way. Kyung can’t find the words to comfort Jiho, even if the things Jiho assumes are wrong. So, instead Jiho keeps rambling a little too loud, grabbing at his own hair._ _

__“It’s okay, I mean, yeah it’s fine, if you like girls too. But right now, am I not enough?” The pressure of guilt on Kyung’s chest is so much that he believes it could crush him entirely. Yet he can’t bring himself to do anything but watch Jiho unravel in a hysterical breakdown. He’s never really thought about Jiho’s feelings, he never thought Jiho could feel this way. Jiho always seemed so grown up and far too stupid to have any depth beyond his usual idyllic musings of love. Kyung knows he’s always been in the wrong to assume that, to act as if Jiho doesn’t have a multitude of thoughts kept in private about their relationship too._ _

__Breaking from his trance, Kyung shakes his head again. “No, I don’t mean that…” But he doesn’t know how to express what he does mean instead._ _

__“Kyung,” Jiho turns away, suddenly the livid energy of his voice dropping. “Please just fucking figure this out, okay? It’s been _months_ and it’s tiring not knowing.” _ _

__Frightened by what those words hint at, Kyung watches wide eyed, wanting to beg Jiho to stop. He didn’t mean to let them be torn apart like this, this is the last thing that he would have wanted. He loves Jiho, how can Jiho not know that?_ _

__Dejectedly, the blond tosses the magazine aside. Kyung lets him leave without saying anything, mortified that he’ll only soil things further if he tries to mend what has happened._ _

__Numbly, he slides the window shut and pulls the curtains in place. He picks up the magazine and straightens out the pages and stacks them neatly, as if they had never been touched. And he convinces himself that it’s all okay if he puts the thinking off for tomorrow, only the moment he lies down he can’t help but cry. Closing his eyes tight and pressing his face into the sheets to muffle the sound, he cries alone. It feels like he’s ruined everything._ _

__Somewhere on the way home his boys are getting in trouble, even though he told them not to. And Jiho is parking his car in some vacant lot where he’ll get out and walk a mile, alone, so that when trouble comes to him it gets him good. Maybe Yukwon is having an argument with his girlfriend too, because he can never put aside bad habits for her. Dysfunctional kids left to their own devices always do the worst._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jiho: yea im trouble i'll fight everyone here  
> jiho: *proceeds to get his ass kicked*


	12. Quasar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Kyung presses a kiss to Jiho’s head, wrapping his arms around Jiho, too. The alterations in who Kyung has become, the extent of how he and Jiho’s lives have tangled, is astronomical. It really is so, so scary._

“Are you okay?”

His eyes are puffy from the night before and he'd rather not be awake right now. 

Kyung ignores the question and walks past his sister without so much as looking at her. He didn't think he'd ever feel this miserable about a boy. It's not that he's only sad, that would be far more bearable than the concoction of other things he feels mixed with the heartbreak. The conversation nags at the back of his mind, turned worse by the fear of how the other boys will react if they find out what's happened. 

To make matter worse, Kyung doesn't see anyone he knows at school. For a fleeting moment, he's paralyzed with terror at the irrational thought that they've all deserted him in name of loyalty to Jiho, as if Jiho would ever have them do that. 

The anxiety only increases when he's forced to spend his lunch alone. Initially he waits, nervously kicking at the ground and twisting one way then the other in search of even Yoon or Mino. Eventually he feels unsafe waiting around alone and abandons the table, instead walking around the campus the entire remainder of the break.

After school Yoon finds Kyung at his locker. He had run there in search of Kyung, hands on his knees as he leaned over to catch his breath before blurting, “Stuff is gonna happen and Seunghoon says you should come.” Kyung isn't sure how much more of this he can take before he's struck with premature heart failure from the stress. 

Yoon walks fast and with long strides that Kyung almost has to jog to keep up with. He blames the brisk walk to their lot as reason for his breathlessness, not any lingering apprehension of the area.

Kyung’s heart sinks when they get up to the others and Jiho isn't there. He does a double take, clinging to the hope that maybe he hasn't looked properly, but the older man really isn't anywhere to be seen. What if Jiho is avoiding him?

“Here he is,” Yoon announces, gesturing to Kyung. 

There's a moment where Seunghoon only watches Kyung quietly, then he asks, “Where's your boyfriend?” Kyung doesn't answer. “Aren’t you two inseparable? Where is he?” Kyung doesn't know.

“Doesn't he know your boys are messed up?” They're not Kyung’s boys, they're Jiho’s, but Kyung doesn't correct him. Maybe they are his boys now, but he won't accept that quite yet. It would be synonymous with accepting the full responsibility of being part of their unsaid hierarchy. 

Kyung ignores the question. “What do you mean messed?” He peers around at the others stops to look at Jaehyo a little longer. “What happened now?”

Jaehyo has his arm wrapped in a white cast. Kyung feels selfish for not having noticed earlier. It's Jiho’s fault, he's clouded all his thinking.

“I went home after you left yesterday, before Taeil,” Jaehyo explains, voice void of any indicator that he's been affected by what's happened. “I was alone and some of those guys from before ran into me.” He doesn't really need to explain more. They all know what happened next and why Jaehyo is like this now. 

Kyung looks to Seunghoon again. “What do you need Jiho for?”  
“We have things to do, 'else they'll keep harassing your boys.” No, they’re not his boys.  
“I don't know where he is.”

Seunghoon sighs, stuffing his hands in his pockets and leaning back. “Come with me to his place then.”

Kyung refuses curtly, “No.” Seungoon breathes out again, looking up and groaning at the lack of ease in his planning.

Yukwon ends up going with Seunghoon. Kyung wedges himself in the small space left on the couch between Jihoon and the arm of it. He doesn't talk to the others, and at first no one notices. Later, Jihoon breaks away from talking to Mino to ask Kyung, “Are you okay?” Kyung wishes people would stop asking when he can't tell them that the answer is no.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” he reassures anyway, mustering a small smile to soothe Jihoon’s worries. 

The wait is longer than Kyung had expected. At some point Jihoon goes with Yoon and Mino to walk the perimeter of the building. Taeil replaces Jihoon in the space beside Kyung. They talk only because Taeil starts and Kyung doesn't want him to worry, so he mumbles answers and feigns interest. It must be obvious that Kyung is feeling off, but thankfully Taeil doesn't make the effort to point it out. Eventually Kyung ends up lying with his head in Taeil’s lap and he's not completely sure how, but it's comforting even if Taeil doesn't know what's wrong. 

Kyung sits up when he sees Jiho’s figure emerge from the stairway. They meet eyes for a brief second before Jiho hastily looks away. Accompanying his broody frown is a drooping purple bruise that blossoms around his one eye and drapes under it in uglier hues of yellow and blue. He must have gone out alone too, and Kyung feels the familiar sensations of worry inflame his heart, but he can't ask what's happened or even if Jiho is okay now. 

Seunghoon gathers everyone's attention, which is surprisingly a relief for once. Kyung can't stand the tension between himself and Jiho, even when they’re not even standing beside one another.

“That store owner was a piece of shit,” Seunghoon begins, and Kyung can't argue with that. The man at the corner store that day that Jiho had gone to get everyone drinks had left them to be assaulted because he had known Jiho was queer. But Seunghoon was horrible that day too, he was the reason Jiho had gone at all. Where's the revenge on him?

“The store owner leaves to smoke in the middle of his shift sometimes and he doesn't lock up. We're gonna go and trash it, warn those sons of bitches to keep off while we’re at it.” 

Kyung doesn't see it as such a good idea. It's not very well thought through either, and so he points that out, “You should know the exact times he's gone. One of you pass by every day around those times he's gone and figure when he goes and gets back.”.

Seunghoon raises an eyebrow, gaze flicking over to Kyung to watch him. He looks like he might comment in some snarky pattern that is typical to him, but he doesn't. Instead he smirks and complies, “Sounds good, set it up, baby boy.” 

“Not your baby,” Kyung snaps, sitting up and doing as asked anyway. He gets his bag and shuffles through it for a notebook and a pencil to write out rotations. Jihoon leans over curiously to watch what is being written. Across the room, Jiho watches too, though it’s not exactly the same as how Jihoon observes. Jiho is watching Kyung, not the paper. 

Kyung ignores it.

They go out for dinner later, even though Kyung is supposed to go home according to a threat he had received the previous day from his father. But it’s already 5:00 PM and Kyung doesn’t see any point in going home now, considering he’s already out quite late. He’s stressed enough as it is, the last thing he needs is the pressure of being surrounded by people who could turn on him at any moment.

Kyung doesn’t sit with Jiho and thankfully, no one questions it. Kyung sits close to Jihoon but doesn’t talk much. Instead he settles for anxiously watching Jiho from across the table. The older man doesn’t seem troubled now, sitting between Taeil and Mino and fully immersed in a conversation already. Clingy as always, he grabs at Taeil and for a moment holds onto his hand even. Kyung isn’t really bothered by that, Jiho was touchy from the start and always has been affectionate with his friends. It’s just that, Kyung kind of wishes that were him. He really wants Jiho to hold his hand instead, hold him. He’s aching for the attention Jiho typically would reserve for him and none other. 

At some point, Jiho glances up and catches Kyung watching. The blond’s happy demeanor instantly drops, and for the rest of the night he’s unusually quiet and keeps to himself. Kyung walks home alone after, even when Jaehyo insists it’s not safe, presenting his broken arm as evidence. 

Over the next two or so weeks, they obediently follow through with Kyung’s plan. He doesn’t really address it, but it is almost worrying how trusting they are of his guidance. 

Kyung comes up to the parking garage more often than not after school, increasingly by choice rather than obligation. It’s an especially hot day on the weekend prior to school’s dismissal for the summer. Everyone’s gathered around, except for Seunghoon and Jinwoo. Kyung is dreading seeing Jiho, as he does almost every day now, but is pleasantly surprised to find him passed out on the dirty couch with his legs draped over Yukwon’s lap, who is preoccupied in flipping through a comic book. Noting the already cramped space on the couch, Kyung settles for sitting on the ground and leaning against the side of it. 

Seunghoon comes by later and Jiho is still asleep. Kyung is half way into his math homework and his back hurts from leaning over it on the floor. At some point Mino had joined him to insist Kyung allow him to copy it, and eventually Kyung gives in, which is a mistake because Yoon thinks the offer automatically extends to him as well.

“Lose the leather jacket,” comes Seunghoon’s voice, and Kyung looks up to see him slap Yoon’s shoulder. Yoon watches Seunghoon, eyebrows at an annoyed slant as he reluctantly obliges and slides his jacket from his shoulders. Overheating, Kyung guesses. 

Seunghoon walks to the center of the boy’s congregation and sets a cooler down, sliding the lid off with a kick of the foot. Everyone looks up, and Seunghoon straightens with one drink held in his hand, “It’s fucking hot out.” No one needs anymore prompting, all taking gratefully from the container cans of soda.

Kyung watches, is about to get up too, when Seunghoon holds out the drink held in hand to him. “You like the fruit flavored kind, don’t you?” Taken aback, Kyung blinks at the older man and speechlessly takes the drink from him. Cherry. He’s far too confused to find anything to say before Seunghoon has turned his attention back to everyone else. 

Then the attention is stolen away as Yukwon’s voice cheerily announces, “Guys, Taeil and Jaehyo are graduating soon.” Jaehyo instantly responds with a sarcastic grin and an exaggerated sigh, “Yeah, fucking finally!” The boys all laugh as if it’s true that there’s any significance in graduating, except for Kyung who watches Jiho still undisturbed in his sleep. If he hadn’t been an idiot, he’d be graduating too. Kyung wonders if it bothers him knowing he won’t be up on stage with the rest of his former classmates. 

He worries about Jiho. He worries about what happens next, once they’re all done playing these stupidly dangerous games. 

Kyung spends a lot of time moping. It simmers low in his heart constantly, the desire for Jiho back. He lies in bed at 7:00 PM because he’s too sad to do anything else and going to bed early is always easiest. Cheek pressed to pillow and the lights out, he doesn’t bother trying to stop the sniffling once the tears start bubbling and catching at the corner of his eyes. 

Jiho is mad at him but his only comfort is Jiho. An unbearable contradiction. Kyung tries not to think about it too long, because trying not to cry makes his head hurt. But how, how, how, when he loves Jiho and wants Jiho so badly.

Graduation day comes before long. Kyung dresses nice and combs out his hair with a clean part for the first time in over a week. At first, he had kept up with appearances to save his friends the hardship of knowing he was miserable, but even the energy for that had faded as his desperation to have mended things with Jiho increased. Lately he’s lost all interest in most anything, mind constantly consumed by thoughts of when things will return to normal. 

He buys flowers for Jaehyo and Taeil, pausing briefly to wonder if they’ll tease him for the sappy sentiment, but deciding to purchase them regardless. He has each arrangement tied with big, loopy bows. Pretty. 

It’s all made up to be something bigger than it really is. It’s only high school, in a few days they’ll have forgotten most everything about it. Tomorrow the diploma won’t matter, the rented robes will be hastily returned, and most friendships severed soon after. It’s not really a big deal in the scope of things, yet they’re all granted a moment to bask in the excitement, the glory, the harmless fun, of finally being liberated from the institution they’ve grown up in. 

Everyone comes around, even Seunghoon and his boys. It feels like a unifying moment, as much as Kyung hates to admit it. Gradually their respective circles are merging. Most of Jiho’s boys get along with Seunghoon’s well enough, and now here they are, still doing things that friends would do. 

Jiho doesn’t sit with Kyung, which is okay. Of course, it stings, but Kyung blinks away the tears at the thought and turns his attention to whatever it is Yukwon is telling Jihoon. 

Kyung listens carefully for Jaehyo’s name, then Taeil’s, and cheers even though they wouldn’t know if he hadn’t. When every single student’s name is said and diplomas are in hand, Kyung claps one last time, restless to have Jaehyo and Taeil back with him. 

They’re all smiles. The moment feels so light. The sun sets and the lights on the football field are harsh, so that all the laughter and the giddiness is illuminated well even when it’s so late. Kyung hands off the flowers and Jaehyo is flustered while Taeil laughs. Kyung loves them so much that he can forget the lack of it that Jiho has left him with. 

There’s congratulations and praise and jokes being shared. They waste time standing around and talking for so long, and then Yukwon tells them to wait a while longer because he’s forgotten his camera in his car but they _have_ to take a picture of the graduating boys and it’ll only take a minute. In return, Taeil insists Yukwon find someone else to take the picture, as they all should be in it.

Later when Kyung leans over Yukwon’s shoulder to look at the photo, he feels that familiar surge of unrestrained affection. Sometimes he feels like these people were meant for him, like despite everything that’s gone wrong, at the very least he’s been given this rag tag bunch of boys as a family to hold him together even when things are rough. Some celestial power must have willed it, he concludes. 

Another dinner with the boys but this time it’s on Seunghoon and Jiho who both offer at once and settle for splitting the bill. Kyung tries to busy himself in conversation, but eventually settles for longingly watching Jiho across the table, chin perched on one hand and food abandoned. Jinwoo tells some stories about himself and Seunghoon from their younger days, though Kyung drifts in and out of listening to the anecdotes they tell. Yoon listens with piqued interest. 

“I couldn’t believe him, he had a new girlfriend every weekend. We’d go out Friday nights and he’d end up with a new girl and I’d ask him, Seunghoon really, what about that other girl.”

Seunghoon stops him to add pointedly, “Jinwoo was supposed to be the pretty one, he could’ve had all those girls at once if he tried.” 

And then it’s Jinwoo again, without missing a beat, because they follow one another’s cues very smoothly, “Right, but I was stuck with you,” Seunghoon nods with a grin as Jinwoo continues, “At the end of it he always came to me saying we’re best friends, and we were, but that didn’t mean all the girls weren’t happening in between it. I really thought, I’ll strangle this guy if he ditches me one more time for some girl.” Everyone laughs, except Jiho doesn’t seem to take it as lightly as everyone else, a subtle accent of concern nudging at his expression. 

Kyung sits up. “You had girlfriends before?” 

Seunghoon raises an eyebrow but doesn't hesitate to answer, “Yeah, I dated a lot of girls, even in college.” Kyung nods slowly, sneaking a glance at Jiho. 

In a heartbeat the story is left behind as the boys chatter on about other things. Kyung loses interest again and settles for listening to bits and pieces of talk in between his personal ruminations. 

Eventually they get kicked out of the restaurant for hanging around too long. As if pushing the owner's tolerance a little further, they hang around outside the door a while longer. The cool summer air is silent but for the infrequent chirp of crickets and the boys’ tired voices. Slowly they begin to go their separate ways, offering temporary goodbyes and final congratulations to Taeil and Jaehyo.

Jiho leaves and Seunghoon waits until he's out of sight to ask Kyung, “You two broken up?” Kyung looks up at him, expecting a cold sneer, but not finding it. There's no malicious bite to his question. It's just a question.

“No—well, I don't think so. Maybe?” Kyung doesn't mean to be so honest about it, his plan had always been to keep to himself until they had sorted it out, but he's really hurting and it's hard to resist the temptation to just spill. 

Seunghoon nods, putting his hands in his pockets and looking back at where Jinwoo is sending Yoon and Mino off with a cheery goodbye. 

“You gotta get home?  
Kyung shrugs  
“Might as well come with us.” 

So that's how Kyung ends up in the backseat of Seunghoon’s car, silently listening to him and Jinwoo talk about Mino’s grades as if they were his parents. They mention Yoon too, who is doing so much better than Mino, but not amazing either. Kyung feels like a third wheel, like he's intruding. 

He's sure they've forgotten about him by the time they park in front of the apartment complex, but then Jinwoo opens the door for Kyung. “Come on, kid,” Seunghoon calls as Jinwoo falls in step beside him. He’s not sure why he’s decided to come with these two. As earlier expressed, he hates Lee Seunghoon. So why is he here? Maybe Seunghoon doesn’t hate him and Kyung shouldn’t hate him either, maybe things are changing. 

Their apartment is cute, small and cozy. It's nothing much, but they've given it the demeanor of a home. The kitchen is well used, dishes stacked in the sink with an excuse of needing to soak and letters stuck with magnets to the fridge. The living room is tiny but they’ve crammed a sofa and coffee table in that space. It’s cramped but obviously lived in and filled with domestic memories.

Kyung leans over the kitchen counter to look at a dog shaped salt shaker. “Don’t your neighbors mind?” 

“We’re roommates, plenty of college guys live together to cut costs,” Seunghoon answers breezily, going to the pantry to get something. Kyung watches, feeling the apprehension nibbling at the back of his mind. Jinwoo collapses on the sofa and sighs, leaning back and announcing, “I’m so tired.” 

It’s almost strange seeing this as the place that the notorious Lee Seunghoon and Kim Jinwoo live in. It’s not scary and dim, not full of angst and dark history. It’s normal, so very normal. It makes Seunghoon seem more human, nudges Kyung in the direction of burying grudges that he’s held towards the older man.

Seunghoon starts the stove and sets a kettle over it. “Sit down,” Jinwoo calls from behind Kyung. Mechanically, feeling very awkward, he does as told and takes a seat at the armchair across Jinwoo. 

Kyung shifts uncomfortably and tries to find something to look at. He's painfully misfitting in this scenario. 

Jinwoo speaks up out of the blue, “Are you and Jiho in love?” 

“Jinwoo, come on,” Seunghoon sighs from the kitchen, setting a cup down and shooting the other man a stare that Kyung can't decipher the meaning of. 

“But they're so cute and serious about it,” Jinwoo argues with a soft laugh, looking to Kyung again to prompt wordlessly for the answer. 

Seunghoon takes the kettle from the stove and tuts, “But they're not dating anymore.”

“They're not?” Jinwoo gasps and looks to Kyung's for confirmation, genuine surprise written clear across his face. Kyung shifts in his seat again. He doesn't want them to get the wrong idea. 

“Me and Jiho aren't on best terms, but we're not really broken up, unless...he broke up with me and I...oh.”

Kyung chews on his lip nervously and trails off into silence. He hasn't thought about what Jiho's words implied in terms of whether or not they were officially dating or not. 

There's an uncomfortable stunned silence between the three. Seunghoon and Jinwoo exchange glances, Seunghoon silently cursing Jinwoo who responds with a panicked shrug and clenched teeth. 

A cup is set before Kyung on the coffee table and Seunghoon stands before him for a moment longer. “Tea,” He explains, gesturing to it and waiting until Kyung gingerly takes it in his hands and takes a cautious sip. He’s focused on the hot liquid when Seunghoon returns to speaking of the topic at hand. “What did Jiho say?” 

Kyung looks up at him, watches him sit down besides Jinwoo. No matter how he tries to pick words carefully in attempt to keep the truth elusive, he fails to keep it bottled up. 

“He's tired of me— no I mean he's tired of this. Because he thinks I like girls.”

Jinwoo raises his eyebrows and whistles, looking away as if pretending he isn’t involved. Seunghoon looks similarly surprised as he allows for a wordless pause to recollect his thoughts. 

Kyung nervously waits for either of them to speak, still tense when Seunghoon prompts, “Right, but do you like girls?” Kyung thinks it shouldn’t really matter.

“I think I do, but I like Jiho more. Isn’t that enough?” Now he’s treading on ground of couple’s counselling from someone he was certain he hated. Seunghoon should be the last person to hear about his troubles yet here they are, with Seunghoon being the first to know. But it’s hard not to tell, because here Kyung is, looking at Jinwoo and Seunghoon who seem essentially problem free and more importantly, _they’re like him._ He’s never met anyone like him and Jiho before and there’s something that feels exclusive to their relationships that others can’t understand. 

Seunghoon shrugs and slings an arm over the back of the sofa. “Right, should be.”

Devoid of all pride now, Kyung sighs dejectedly and sets the cup of tea down. This isn’t making any sense and if he were to just stop and think reasonably for a moment he’d realize a collection of things that he should do: 1) leave the home of the people he hates, 2) definitely don’t tell those two people all your problems, 3) take the unhappy splitting with his lover as a blessing and bolt back to comfortable normalcy. 

“Maybe let him go,” Jinwoo suggests with a sympathetic smile. 

“Don’t tell the boys, don’t tell anyone,” Kyung mutters back. 

He thinks to go home because this is Seunghoon, the same man who constantly degrades him, but he can't bring himself to leave. The pieces are falling into place and even if it’s an incomplete picture, there is surely a more comprehensive understanding of Seunghoon that Kyung has now than he did before. Seunghoon is nowhere near a friend, there’s still too much that he does that is, in Kyung’s opinion, downright rude, things that make him an asshole. But there’s other things too, now. There’s Seunghoon remembering his preferred flavor of soda, there’s Seunghoon and Jinwoo’s playful teasing that indicates a softer time in their history, there’s his dog shaped salt shaker and then there’s him noticing the rift between Kyung and Jiho before anyone else could find the confidence to reach out. 

So, Kyung ends up falling asleep on their arm chair. While it’s still dark out, likely some hours after midnight, Kyung awakes and blinks curiously into the blackness. It takes some time for him to remember where he is, and then some moments later he realizes he’s somehow moved. Rather than the cramped arm chair, he’s stretched out across the couch with a heavy blanket placed over himself. Kyung bites his bottom lip and closes his eyes, tries to keep from submerging himself too deep in the affection for dangerous boys who seem a million times more welcoming than a safe family. 

 

They offer him breakfast in the morning. They really are like parents, Kyung thinks wistfully, understanding now why Yoon is so spoiled. Kyung would be too if he had Seunghoon and Jinwoo constantly doting on him. And, he bitterly notes to himself, Jinwoo and Seunghoon would make better parents than many, they’d never hurt their children for being different. But maybe he’s getting ahead of himself. 

Without school, there’s not many excuses left for his parents to be given, Kyung gets home and feels the immense tragedy of using his final excuse, a graduation party, as being why he was out. He’ll figure things out, he has to, there’s nothing that can keep him from going out with Jiho and his boys. 

For another week things are pretty quiet. Jihoon’s parents are out for the first half of the week for a funeral, leaving the boys to lounging around his living room every day. Kyung spends those days watching Jiho longingly and trying not to let the despair completely overcome him. The latter half of the week Kyung spends at home, having to see his sister’s boyfriend at dinner with them on one of those days. Kyung pushes the food on his plate around, brimming with jealousy at how easy they have it. 

Then Monday comes and Seunghoon is back to being an asshole with a plan. “None of it matters, just do whatever you want,” He’s saying as Kyung comes up the stairs to the parking lot. They have all the times noted down when the store’s owner is out to smoke and they know what to do. So, no more waiting, Kyung’s plan comes to life the very next day.

It’s Tuesday. They take advantage of the vacancy, just as Seunghoon had elaborated in his earlier explanation. Seunghoon initiates it, standing at the door and first taking the time to flex his neck either way, eliciting a clearly audible _crack_ at the pull of muscles both ways. Then he takes the bat from Yoon’s hands, who opens his mouth to protest, and smashes in one of the freezer doors. That is indication enough that they can begin; instantly the others break into anarchy. Kyung can only watch in horror as even Jihoon participates wholeheartedly, tipping an entire shelf over onto its side so that its contents spill and crush. 

Kyung knows it’s wrong but he can’t find the resolve to stop anyone. He feels strangely detached from the moment, as if he were an entity separate to the other boys. Or maybe he’s subconsciously given into siding with them unconditionally, and by stopping them he’d be betraying them. It’s a possibility that Kyung would rather not consider. It’s so much easier to be the innocent bystander.

Everything comes apart in seconds. Before Kyung has even fully comprehended what he’s condoned, the boys are walking out as if nothing ever happened. Jiho lingers in the center of the store. 

“I’ll do it,” Jiho calls to Seunghoon, who stands by the door, gesturing the others away. “Whatever you say,” Seunghoon answers, shrugging and taking a can from his back pocket and effortlessly tossing it in Jiho’s direction. He’s about to disappear after the others, but pauses briefly to call towards Kyung, “Let’s go, kid.” 

Stubbornly, Kyung shakes his head. He can’t see Jiho, not with his back turned to him, but Kyung wonders if that surprised Jiho. His loyalty can’t be shaken, not even at times like this, and that’s terrifying. Seunghoon doesn’t push anymore, just gives them a narrow-eyed stare before going out the door. Kyung thinks it’s possible Seunghoon understands. Aren’t they the same in many ways, even if Kyung doesn’t want to associate with him?

Kyung turns to look at Jiho to find him looking back. 

And then Jiho turns back, staring at the spray paint in his hand as if mulling over the potential consequences one final time. Optimism says Jiho really did take a moment to reconsider it all, and for a second Kyung falls for the ploy and is hopeful. He thinks that this might be the turning point where Jiho decides to give up on this reckless revenge obsession. But it’s all wishful thinking, because in another second, Jiho is walking to the front glass panes of the store and shaking the can. 

Kyung follows him and hoists himself up onto the counter to sit and watch. Jiho’s back is turned to him, so he can’t see the other man’s face, but he can see his own reflection strikingly well in the glass. For whatever reason, that person captured in the reflection comes across as a foreign being to Kyung. 

Even once Jiho has finished spraying the windows with vague warnings as coordinated by Seunghoon, he lingers. Kyung leans forward and calls, “Hurry up, we don’t have a lot of time.” 

Jiho looks up away from the glass panes to stare at Kyung. “We should run, like, now,” He deadpans, standing in the vacant store awkwardly now, with the can held in one hand. Kyung gets down from the counter but doesn’t immediately follow the plan. 

“Why? What’s wrong?” 

Jiho steps towards Kyung, a hand almost coming up to grip his forearm. The tension of in-between-lovers, not friends but not broken up either. Kyung holds his breath, waits for Jiho to touch his arm, but the other man retracts his arm when he realizes the distance that should be between them now. 

There’s a second longer of faltering then suddenly Jiho grabs Kyung arm and pulls him towards the door. “There’s people coming up the street,” Jiho tells, leading Kyung along. 

People coming up the street that they’re getting out onto. This sounds absurd, ridiculous, like a death wish. And knowing that, Kyung lets Jiho drag him along without compliant. 

The second Jiho steps out from the building, there’s a rock hurled in his direction. Kyung freezes at the sight of it grazing Jiho’s face, watches in horror when he doubles over for a moment with hands brought to his face.

“Oh, fuck,” Jiho groans, straightening looking at his hands briefly before yanking Kyung harshly in one direction. 

Pretending. If he just pretends, and it’s getting so easy to do, Kyung could believe there’s nothing wrong at all. Easily it becomes a pleasant exhilaration, even if his muscles are burning and he’s never been so tired before. He glances at Jiho once, pays for it by stumbling and nearly tripping. Jiho with his hair long now and in desperate need of a second course of dye and his lips parted, chest heaving, and his face shiny with sweat. 

They run down the street and turn down a street a long way down, but even then, Jiho doesn’t let Kyung rest. He keeps walking at a quick pace until they come across another drugstore which he without warning tugs Kyung into. Kyung has questions but he keeps them to himself, letting Jiho lead him to the back of the store. 

Finally, then, Jiho lets him rest, collapsing on the floor by the shelves. Kyung follow suit, breathing heavy and saying nothing as he settles beside Jiho. Jiho has retracted any former contact, hands folded in his lap now.

They sit side by side, Jiho cross legged with his knee touching Kyung’s leg. The shallow scratch above Jiho’s eyebrow has stopped bleeding, leaving a smudged trail down his temple that doesn’t stretch any further. 

“This is stupid,” Kyung declares flatly. Jiho looks to him only for a moment before facing forward again.

“I don’t want to fight. I like you Jiho, a lot. Too much- I’ve never liked someone so much before and it’s kinda scary.” Kyung can’t be sure if he’s making sense, but he’s surely nowhere near being eloquent. He hopes Jiho gets the idea anyway, this is hard enough as it is. 

Jiho looks at him again, but Kyung can’t predict what he’ll say. His forehead is slick with sweat, locks of dirty blond sticking to his skin in curly patterns. He’s still out of breath, chest rising and falling a bit quicker than normal.

“I’m sorry,” Jiho says, and Kyung isn’t sure why. “I was scared too.” For different reasons, in fact, the very opposite reasons.

Kyung sighs, too tired to keep going. He leans his head against Jiho’s shoulder and closes his eyes for a moment. 

There isn’t any reward in revenge. Not any that Kyung can see. Sure, they vandalized the store and made that man’s life miserable, but what came of it? There’s no follow up, there’s no huge reward or recognition as noble heroes. Life goes on in its very ordinary routine.

Maybe what did come of it is the repair of Kyung and Jiho’s relationship. It’s fair to say that Kyung’s mood improves dramatically after he and Jiho are together again. Even if everyone notices, they don’t say anything, though when Seunghoon and Jinwoo catch the two holding hands and giggling, they exchange knowing glances. 

Kyung has really missed Jiho, but maybe Jiho has missed him more. Jiho hugs him from behind, arms wrapping around his waist and chin settling on his shoulder. The older man snuggles against him, turning his face to press into the junction of Kyung’s neck. Kyung hadn't really thought about it, but now it's apparent Jiho must have missed him a lot too. 

A single year’s gap divides them. All differences are more or less self-constructed. Kyung notes to himself to consider that more. Jiho is not really an adult, he is in no way dictated as such by his habits, by his maturity, by anything at all. They’re both just clueless boys trying to feel their way through whatever it is they’ve gotten themselves stuck in. Jiho is a kid like him. 

He's miraculously clingier than he is on typical days, which Kyung didn't know was even possible. They're sitting around at their usual place and Kyung gets up to leave when Jiho grabs his arm and drags him back onto the couch. Kyung tries to protest yet still lets himself be situated comfortably between Jiho's bent knees with his back pressed to Jiho’s chest and arms wrapped around his waist. Kyung turns his face to pepper Jiho’s jaw in kisses, earning a giddy grin from Jiho as he's cuddled closer. 

Curiously watching, Yoon notes aloud, “They're always all over each other.” Seunghoon glances up from where he's sat with Jinwoo, neither of them touching the other in the slightest. 

Hearing the comment, Kyung looks away from Jiho to stare at Yoon too. Defensive without having much reason to be so, he snaps, “He's my boyfriend. I can do whatever I want with him.” Even Jiho looks taken aback, straightening up and leaning away to get a better look at Kyung’s expression.

There's an awkward silence. While Yoon’s comment wasn't exactly necessary, it wasn't in any way meant to be harmful, and the tone he had spoken in conveyed the nonthreatening nature of it. Had anyone else said it, Kyung would have gone along and teased them in one way or another rather than being rude. 

Yoon looks at a loss for what to say, but thankfully for him Seunghoon interjects, “Don't be a bitch about it, he didn't mean bad by saying that and you know it.” Kyung hasn't heard Seunghoon sound like he cares ever before, so it's effective in stunning him into a brief silence. Not to mention, Seunghoon isn't wrong. 

Jiho sighs, pressing his face to Kyung’s back so that his cheek is squished against the younger boy. “He could've kept it to himself,” Jiho suggests nonchalantly. The lack of interest evident in Jiho’s voice keeps Seunghoon from arguing further, though he does fix Kyung with an especially sharp glare for a moment longer before gesturing Yoon over to sit with him. 

Later when Kyung and Jiho are walking down the stairs on their way home, Jiho mentions it again. “Why'd you snap at Yoon like that?” 

“I don't know, just used to people saying stuff like that because they're being mean, I guess.” Of course, that's a lie. He knew Yoon didn't mean to be judgmental from the start. 

There's a short silence and Kyung thinks maybe Jiho will scold him. 

“So,” Jiho takes hold of Kyung’s hand and slows his pace, “You can do whatever you want with me?” Kyung stops fully now, turning red at the smirk that Jiho gives him. He's glad they're alone in the stairwell. 

“Am I wrong?” Despite how his heart is hammering away in his chest, he grins back at Jiho, raising his eyebrows and leaning closer. He detangles his hand from Jiho's to instead place both hands at his boyfriend’s hips, hooking his fingers in the other boy’s belt loops. 

Jiho’s hands find the small of the shorter boy’s back and pull him in so that they're pressed against one another, his own back leaning against the wall now. “Find out,” he challenges, smiling into a tentative kiss. 

Hands moving to grip at Jiho’s hair, which is conveniently longer now and so satisfying to pull at, Kyung tugs him down to kiss him better. He doesn't know where the impulse comes from, but he sees the opportunity and bites down on Jiho’s bottom lip and he freezes at how Jiho moans into his mouth. _He...I made him,_ Kyung tries to think, but he can't form a single thought fully. 

Suddenly there's a need to be closer, but how, when they're already pressed against one another? The desperation for more contact makes every movement clumsy and rushed. It's hard to concentrate on kissing when there are other needs that are begging to be met. For a while Kyung’s mind is reeling in a confused flurry, trying to figure how to move so that he can get the relief he needs. It's a bit overwhelming with how Jiho’s hands move to trail from his shoulders down his back. Kyung can barely find time or the clarity to breathe. 

It takes what feels like excruciatingly long seconds for Kyung to figure it out, rolling his hips involuntarily against Jiho. He can feel Jiho follow the movement, equal in seeking out friction, and somehow knowing that makes it infinitely better. Knowing Jiho wants this too makes it so good. 

Jiho's hands wander lower until he's grabbing at Kyung’s ass and urging Kyung to move against him. At that, Kyung closes his eyes and breaks from kissing to whisper, “Please, please, Jiho…” He's not even sure what he's begging for. 

Caught in the moment, Kyung can honestly say he's forgotten they're still in the stairwell, with all their friends overhead. Which would be fine, if Jaehyo hadn't also needed to go home at this time. 

“What the fuck.” 

Jiho pushes Kyung away, a momentary flash of fear overcoming his features, before he realizes it's Jaehyo. Kyung is a bit too stunned to form any words or really feel the embarrassment quite yet.

Jaehyo has already started going back up the stairs, rambling, “You two are gross. I didn't need to see that. Oh my God this is going to haunt me forever. I can't believe you two. I didn't need to see any of that.” 

Kyung breaks from his daze, face flushing as he buries his face in the front of Jiho’s shirt to shamefully hide. Jiho doesn't say anything until Jaehyo has disappeared back up the stairs. Once he's surely out of sight, Jiho pulls Kyung away to look at him and suggest, “Maybe we should, uh, go.” He's still a little breathless, and he looks wrecked with how his lips are swollen and pink and his hair sticks up messily. Kyung wonders if he looks the same.

He’s a little annoyed that Jaehyo has killed the mood, but what’s done is done. “Y-yeah,” Kyung agrees shakily, stepping away and looking down to straighten out his clothes. Then Kyung looks back to Jiho and reaches to straighten him out too. “Fix your hair.”

“Oh, right,” Jiho mumbles awkwardly, combing his fingers through his hair quickly. There's an uncomfortable tension settled between them and it doesn't help that Kyung is still disappointed that he's left unsatisfied simply because Jaehyo couldn't have decided to come down the stairs later. And they’ll probably never talk about this, because Kyung has successfully scared Jiho into approaching the topic. So, there goes Kyung’s only chance at furthering their allowance of intimacy.

Kyung sneaks home before his parents are even there, but it's just his luck that his sister catches sight of him. She looks about ready to accuse him of things again, but Kyung denies them before she can speak, “Nothing's up, don't ask.”

And, if he takes an unusually long shower with thoughts of Jiho’s full lips and rough hands in mind, no one has to know. 

 

Long summer days become a backdrop to Kyung’s impressionable youth. He becomes like a peach cultivated with ceaseless labor and fed the nutrients of a many seasons weathered tree that has been dropped from above. There are bruises worn into the soft, fuzzy skin of it and bites torn into the supple sweet flesh, torn away with nectar like blood dripping from teeth. The hot orange of warm sunsets makes the defiled fruit appear inviting, as if it has not become food for the insects and the insects alone, 

Kyung sits in Yukwon’s car and takes a cigarette from him, out of curiosity and because everyone’s doing it. Because he’s one of their kind. 

Kyung practically runs away from home to spend time with the boys. Even when everyone else is busy, he can usually find Jihoon. Kyung likes spending time with Jihoon, it’s easy and complication free. They like to go to the park and sit under the trees, talking for hours about anything and everything, and sometimes not talking at all. Kyung just likes the company. He really wishes Jihoon wouldn’t have marred the idyllic sanctity of those moments by asking about real, unhappy things. 

"What is Jiho doing to you?"

Kyung looks up, eyebrow raised in confusion. He expects it to be a joke, but Jihoon doesn't look in the mood to be humorous.

"What do you mean?" He returns to concentrating on his book, Jihoon's full attention burning him. 

"You're not the same anymore, Kyung. It's his fault, isn't it?"

Kyung looks up fractionally. "I love him." He doesn't mean to sound so defensive, but he can't help it.

Jihoon frowns. "But," he begins only to pause hesitantly. "Did he hurt you?"

Kyung thinks for a moment, refraining eye contact with the other boy. 

"Yeah, I guess so." Kyung shuts the book, not bothering to mark the page he had last been on. "But that's how love is," he argues flatly. 

"No it's not." Jihoon looks concerned.

Kyung sighs and finally looks at him completely. "For us, it is. Do you think Jiho could ever love anyone without it hurting?" Jihoon stares at him with nothing to say. 

Tired but resolute in his opinion, Kyung elaborates, "Think about it, no one's ever loved Jiho normally. Maybe there's something wrong with him."

Jihoon appears almost offended when he shoots back, "Aren't you the same?"

That's not arguable. Kyung nods. "Exactly." It's not the answer Jihoon was looking for. "There's something wrong with us and that's why we can't ever be together without feeling miserable." 

Dejectedly, Jihoon leans back and tears his gaze away from Kyung. Watching clouds overhead, he prompts again, "Does he hurt you?"

Kyung looks up too. The sky makes everything seem so peaceful, essentially problem free. "No, not really, not him," Kyung says this time, voice betraying him and faltering as he speaks. 

Jihoon glances over again. "I didn't think Jiho would."

"But it still hurts."

Jihoon could never understand but Kyung tries anyway, continuing, "If it's not him then it's everyone else making it so hard." Maybe it is Jiho's fault too, because he doesn't know how to handle it all, but they're kids and don't know any better. Kyung can't be sure who to point fingers at when there's so much blame to be distributed. 

"Is it worth it then?"

That's a good question, Kyung thinks. "It's funny that really, you'd think it's not, but somehow, I've never been more alive." It frustrates him that he can't explain it better, so he tries again, "Not being with Jiho is easy, but it doesn't feel right. Jiho makes me happy. I wouldn't give him up just to go back to indefinitely pretending to be someone I'm not." Kyung's not sure if he's making sense, but there's no way to express it better. "And I like you guys, you're my friends more than anyone else has ever been," He adds pointedly. 

 

Absurdly, Kyung finds himself in front of Seunghoon’s door again a few days later. There’s a lot of confusion that has been eating away at him lately. 

For a long several minutes he waits there, unsure of whether he should forget it and walk home, or if he should take the risk and go inside. After a long, silent debate and long minutes of fidgeting with his jacket, he ends up knocking.

“Oh, hey, kid.” Seunghoon looks surprised to see Kyung. Kyung is surprised too. 

It’s early July and they’ve gone relatively unscathed in every sense. There’s been less scuffles since their vandalizing the corner store and Kyung hasn’t come into conflict with Seunghoon since having snapped at Yoon that once. And, fortunately, for their kind there is no holding grudges among their own kind. Disagreements and biting words are short-lived and never significant enough to carry past a few days’ time. So, the jab at Yoon is left in the past. 

Like the last time Kyung had come by, Jinwoo is lounging around in the living room, flipping through a magazine. Kyung stands by the kitchen counter, watching Seunghoon shuffle through his fridge for something and producing from it milk. Without looking back he asks, “Coffee? It’s still early.” Kyung accepts, he doesn’t really know how to refuse.

With mug cautiously held in hand and Seunghoon’s full attention, Kyung awkwardly waits for Seunghoon to prompt him to speak first, saying, “What brings you here, don’t I piss you off or something?” 

He’s caught off guard. For a second he’s struggling to find the words to deny it, completely unprepared for such a direct accusation. Seunghoon chuckles in the long pause that Kyung leaves. 

“It’s okay if you think that way, just own up to it,” he prods further, sighing exaggeratedly and bringing his own mug to his lips to take a sip of the hot liquid.

Tilting his head, Kyung thinks for a moment longer then carefully and slowly answers, “Well, I do think you’re an ass sometimes, but maybe because I can’t quite get you.” Jinwoo looks up from his magazine momentarily to grin up at Seunghoon expectantly, awaiting a response as eagerly as Kyung is nervous. 

Good humoredly, Seunghoon laughs. “You’re really something kid. What do you need?” 

Right. Kyung came here with a reason, a reason that’s seeming dumber by the minute. He has to force himself to go through with it, starting with a hesitant, “You, well, no one else can understand, I think. But you’re like me- or I mean, I’m like you, right? So you can help me-”

Seunghoon grins wide when he interjects, “Oh, boy trouble.” 

Kyung wonders how painfully obvious his embarrassment is before forcing himself to nod. Yes, boy trouble.

“What kind of boy trouble? Aren’t you and Jiho back to being stupidly in love?” 

That’s right, he and Jiho are doing okay. So, Kyung nods again, biting his bottom lip as a habit from the nervousness before redirecting the conversation, “Right yeah, everything’s good. Really good, but maybe I want to...do more?” He can’t look Seunghoon in the eye as he says that and he’s not surprised when he hears Jinwoo laughing already, attention stolen away from his reading again.

“You’re a lot more shameless than I thought, kid,” Seunghoon snorts, eyebrow quirked and an amused smirk tugging at his lips. “You want your boyfriend to fuck you-” Kyung cringes at that, “-and you decided to come tell me about that.” Kyung opens his mouth to respond, but Jinwoo gets to it first, quipping with an amused lilt to his voice, “Honestly, I’d have thought they’ve already had sex.” 

Hearing it out loud makes it a bit more real, Kyung swallows hard and tries to not dwell on it. He shakes his head, embarrassment turning his cheeks red and his fingers twitchy. “N-no. I just... I don’t know how?” The older couple’s mouths practically drop in in amused shock, sending Kyung into a hurry to correct, “Don’t know how to tell him it’s okay, I mean. Well, actually, I don’t know how either, but that- that’s really not why I came to you.” 

Seunghoon is almost choking at how hard he tries to refrain from laughing, but he can’t keep from it and doubles over in a fit of quiet laughter. “Oh, right, he’s your first boyfriend,” Jinwoo observes, resting his chin on a hand as he turns his full attention to the conversation now. 

Kyung wants to disappear, this was a bad idea, but he’s desperate for guidance. 

Once Seunghoon’s regained composure, he unhelpfully suggests, “Just tell him you want his dick.” Then he and Jinwoo are laughing again and Kyung feels incredibly stupid for having come here.

“Okay, okay, bad advice,” Seunghoon concedes. “If you won’t tell him just show him you’re okay with it.” 

That would be helpful if Kyung could understand. “What?” 

Jinwoo answers this time, nonchalant and attention returning to the magazine now, “Seduce him.” The idea of that makes Kyung’s mouth go dry.

Their advice session ends with a couple more jokes at Kyung’s expense and a second cup of coffee before he’s ushered out so that they can go do groceries. They offer to drop him home on the way but he politely declines, thanking them for the shoddy advice before leaving. 

The walk home he tries to think it over but it flusters him. He feels painfully aware of his own foolish childishness, and that self-awareness should make it easier to dispel the awkward boyishness, only he can’t. There’s something exciting and confusing about sexuality and the concept of breaching boundaries that keeps him tense and nervous. 

He tries and fails to shake the thoughts of Jiho even once he’s home, only remedy being a hand down his pants and Jiho’s name on his lips. 

 

Breakfast with the boys is better than being home. It’s a sunny, pleasantly warm Sunday morning and they’re sat in a diner. Jiho, who had as of late given up Saturdays to working late in addition to his usual weekday jobs, is half asleep with head resting on Kyung’s shoulder when their food comes around. Kyung nudges him awake. 

There’s a hot stack of pancakes before Kyung and Jiho, to be shared, and a plate with sausages and hash browns before each of the other boys, save for Yoon who has eggs and a banana. 

Kyung cuts into their pancakes, listening to Jaehyo talk about his missing paycheck. He can’t offer any input, as he can’t relate in the slightest, but his opinion isn’t missed when Seunghoon and Taeil offer stern advice on how to retrieve his money. Kyung takes a bite of the pancakes then cuts another piece, lifting it to Jiho’s lips to feed him. 

They sit around a while after they’ve finished eating, too. Kyung draws lazy circles across Jiho’s arm, noting the new scrapes along his forearm that match the fresh rawness of Seunghoon’s knuckles. Kyung thinks momentarily to ask about what has been happening lately, for a recap on the business he’s missed due to being held hostage at home, but decides against it. He’s sure that whatever it is, it must not be very relevant as if it had been, they’d have reported to him already. 

It’s a fairly calm, languid type of morning so when Yoon bolts upright and exclaims something about being late for a class of some sort, everyone’s attention is bought. He basically shoves the remaining half of his banana into his mouth and mumbles around it a rushed, “Gotta go, bye guys,” before pushing past Seunghoon to dash out the door. 

Seunghoon shrugs when everyone looks to him for an explanation, and then Kyung glances to Jiho and maybe he imagines it, but he thinks Jiho looks flustered. He couldn't be sure, but he’ll assume it true. Yoon makes him burn with jealousy he didn’t know he could foster. 

When Jiho gets up to go to pay the bill sometime later, Kyung leans close to Seunghoon across the table and whispers, “Is Yoon like...is he queer, too?” Seunghoon looks a little annoyed at that but answers regardless, “I don’t know. Isn’t my business and not yours either.” And that’s the end of that.

 

As Seunghoon becomes wrapped more and more into Kyung’s life, he equally involves himself with Jiho. It’s only natural, as their two social circles begin to blend into one. Common taste for excitement and shared frustrations bring new friends together.

So, nights where Jiho is sick of work, desperately needing a break, and Kyung is busy, he feeds into bad habits. Seunghoon lets him tag along to go drinking a little too often.

Jiho leans across the counter to point at a drink, preoccupied in listening to Seunghoon so that he can’t coherently speak the name of it. Seunghoon was talking about Jinwoo before, but he’s long since shifted into some conversation about past hook-ups and frivolous relationships. The point of the matter is to say it was all a waste of time in reference to Jinwoo now, but that goes over Jiho’s head for the most part.

“That sounds so good,” Jiho interjects to point out, a new drink replacing the empty glass in his hand. He swirls it around and stares at it as if deciding whether it’s really there or not.

Seunghoon laughs good naturedly and claps a hand on Jiho’s knee, shaking his head. “What, Kyung not cutting it for you? Kid doesn’t deserve you thinking ‘bout anybody but him.” 

Jiho shakes his head and downs a mouthful of his drink, face scrunching at the taste. “No, no. He’s my everything, and he’s so good-” Jiho pauses for a moment and then shakes his head quickly to reiterate, “I mean, I’m sure he’d be so good.” 

Seunghoon gets it then and gasps a little, eyebrows raised in interest and mock surprise. He leans forward, setting his empty glass on the counter and grinning amusedly. “You two haven’t fucked? You’ve been dating how long?” He looks humored by it, an expectant look on his face. 

“Nope, barely touch him,” Jiho tuts, shaking his glass to make a point but instead just spilling some of the translucent liquid and eliciting a snort of laughter from Seunghoon. The man ignores it to keep going, suddenly passionate on the topic, “It’s _so_ tempting, have you seen him?” Jiho isn't even sure how long they've been dating, and he's not sober enough to figure it out.

Seunghoon rolls his eyes but stays grinning, still finding it all a bit funny. “What’s keeping you from it then? It’s not like he isn’t into you, kid’s head over heels in love with you.” Jiho is nodding at that, smiling too at the mention of Kyung loving him back.

“I don’t want to push him to do anything he’s not good with,” Jiho explains, sounding sober for just a second before he’s tiredly sighing again, “But man...” 

Seunghoon guffaws, slapping at his own leg and running a hand through his short hair. “Well, fuck, man. Hope he lets you give it to him soon, sounds like you need it pretty bad.” Then he’s raising his hand to gesture for another couple drinks for the two of them. 

The younger boy agrees with a slight nod of his head, turning dizzy from just that, but still managing to continue, “He's just tense about it all.” Jiho supposed it must be because Kyung is the smart type, always thinking so much, constantly far ahead of where everyone else is when it comes to calculations and logistics. Yet at times like these, the overthinking is nothing but insufferable restraint where it is not needed.

Seunghoon shrugs, a relaxed slant to his shoulders as he brings his drink to his lips. “Just give him something to get him to lighten up,” the dark-haired man swallows a mouthful of the alcohol with little reaction to the sharp taste, “I don't know, poppers or anything like that.”

Although taken aback, Jiho doesn't hesitate to disagree, “I’m not going to _drug him_.” The suggestion alone has Jiho unsettled, thinking of it making him even disgusted. He can't imagine forcing himself on Kyung. Thinking of how trusting and delicate Kyung is at times makes the envisionment all the more reason to be repulsed.

Before Jiho can go far in assuming Seunghoon a bad person by his implications, Seunghoon is shaking his head and elaborating, “I didn't mean it like that. Just, it'd loosen him up, just a head rush and makes it feel real easy and good.” Seunghoon sets his glass down, looking at Jiho with such a relaxed expression that Jiho can tell he doesn't understand the emotional depth of Kyung. “I'm sure he'd be fine with it if you told him that's all it is,” Seunghoon concludes, tone aloof, “Just a quick high for a good fuck.” 

Again, Jiho disagrees, setting his drink down to concentrate more fully on the topic at hand. “He wouldn't, Kyung’s a good boy, he wouldn't,” Jiho responds, finding no way to express the finality and firmness in this belief than to repeat it several times. Kyung would never accept something like taking drugs, regardless of their not being addictive or even being recommended by Jiho himself. Jiho is certain Kyung is incapable of doing something so impure. 

“Sure he would, what do you know?” The way Seunghoon fixes an almost threatening stare on Jiho, as if challenging the younger boy, makes Jiho uneasy. Of course he knows, Kyung is _his_ boyfriend. But Jiho is too unfocused to argue it, or to even want to attempt divulging into a conversation that unsettles him already. So, he lets it go, the pleasant buzz of liquor numbing any concerns and letting him respond with an equally uninterested shrug with ease. But there remains that underlying discomfort, Jiho eyeing Seunghoon warily even when the other man turns away. What started as a good-humored chat has taken an unpleasant turn, tainting Jiho’s entire mood. 

The conversation remains nagging at the back of Jiho’s mind well into the next day, and when Kyung drops by after 7:00 PM with a plastic grocery bag holding their favorite ice creams, all Jiho can do is pretend he isn’t being haunted by those thoughts. 

What adds to the discontentment is how completely unsuspecting Kyung is. The younger boy sits cross legged on the floor beside Jiho, one bare knee touching Jiho’s leg, oblivious to whatever thoughts plague Jiho. Between licks of his ice cream he retells some funny little anecdote from his day. The bare sincerity of who Kyung presents himself as makes Seunghoon’s accusations burn bolder, because how can it be possible that Jiho can’t predict Kyung’s choices? What did Seunghoon mean when he claimed Jiho doesn’t know?

When Kyung goes to the bathroom to wash his hands, Jiho moves to the worn couch and spends the brief wait trying to reassure himself that Seunghoon meant nothing by it all. There’s no hidden complexity to Kyung. Kyung must still be the same wholesome, naive boy he has always known. The virtuousness of him can’t have been tainted? 

When Kyung comes back, he leans forward towards Jiho, placing a hand at his shoulder to shake him and ask with a gentle laugh, “Hey, you okay?” The ringing laugh of his makes Jiho feel lightheaded. 

Jiho numbly tugs Kyung closer between his knees, looking up at him with a troubled gaze. He feels Kyung’s hand, soft and uncalloused fingers, brushing at curling baby hairs at his neck. 

“Jiho, are you okay?” This time Kyung asks with a slight pout, real concern dripping from his sugar-sweet tone. Jiho feels hazy, caught up in the dreamy, suffocating sensations of Kyung and the love that comes with him.

Those wide, brown eyes blinking down at Jiho make his chest constrict with an unwanted tightness. This is Kyung, who is saintly in his uncorrupt nature, and Jiho is learning now that even the implication that that honest character could be debased to anything but the figure of unadulterated purity that he is, is repulsive. Simply put, there is something inherently delicate and untainted about Kyung that should be left untouched. He is so ingenious, so trusting and sincere, Jiho suddenly feels undeserving of him.

It scares Jiho to think that maybe he has changed Kyung in ways he can’t even comprehend yet.

“Jiho,” Kyung speaks again, cotton-soft words whispered between plush lips. Jiho feels intoxicated by it, pulling Kyung close to hug him. He presses his face into the younger boy’s chest, closing his eyes and mumbling in response, “Nothing, I just love you so much.” 

Kyung presses a kiss to Jiho’s head, wrapping his arms around Jiho, too. The alterations in who Kyung has become, the extent of how he and Jiho’s lives have tangled, is astronomical. It really is so, so scary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow [here](https://starlunch.tumblr.com), to ask me stuff or get updates


	13. iPTF14hls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Everyone else is unquestionably in it until the end, it seems. Kyung feels sorry for them and for himself too._

The smoke of a cigarette draws wispy strings in the orange light. There’s low chatter and the taste of nicotine sticking to teeth like plaque. He used to cough and sputter, choke on the black tar, wanting for that rancid taste again, for the silly little dizziness that came with it. Then he was _aching_ for the slow drink of that soft gray smoke, of the way it made nerves settle and hands busy. The dizziness left, but the way it smoothed out the worries, the anxious overthinking, remained irresistible and constant. It became the second addictive presence in his life that year. 

“You been with Taeil and Yukwon? You smell like cigarettes,” Jiho had said one day when he had come over. 

“Yeah. That’s probably it,” He lied, the taste of tobacco clinging to the corners of his mouth. Jiho didn’t stay long, didn’t hold him very close. Jiho must not like it so much, he figured. It was hard to decide if that was worth changing, worth breaking the little habit. Maybe later, maybe a few days down the road he’d say no when Yukwon or Seunghoon or Taeil offered one. 

It’s not so bad, it’s not even once a day. Kyung has never bought his own. It’s just nice to have something to busy his fidgeting fingers, something to concentrate on when there’s too many thoughts plaguing him. 

So much to think about. Life is hectic and things move fast. They’re always coming down from the high of a fight, from the thrill of shoplifting, from the energizing spike of vandalism. Everything gets out of hand and worst of all, Kyung lets it. He even loses reason to oppose Seunghoon. He lets them devolve into this, to turn rabid and without law but for the careful pecking order of their gang. 

Kyung gets home from a late night of watching the older boys draw single-colored ugly letters on windows and walls of their increasing number of known enemies. There’s a kick in his step and a too big fleece jacket over his shoulders from none other than his boyfriend. His boyfriend whom he loves so much, who he’s just got done kissing stupid against the hard brick wall of the back of a building a block down this street. 

“You were out all night again, Kyung,” comes the stern bite from his mother. Kyung tries walking past, like he’s been doing all summer. They can’t stop him, they don’t have anything they can take from him. The defiance grows in him, feeds on the adrenaline as if it were gasoline spilled recklessly. It makes him burn with an unnoticed hatred for people like his parents, people who can’t tolerate him and Jiho and Seunghoon and Jinwoo. He adopts the hatred that Jiho felt, learns the desperation too. 

He hears them demand again, this time his father, “Don’t walk away from your mother like that.” They can’t speak any words that would stop him now. 

And then there’s a hand closed tight around his upper arm and he’s yanked harshly aside and his father hits him across the face. 

It stings. The pride, the fierce fight, vanishes from him. There’s a moment of fear, a brief remembrance of where he belongs, of how his kind are always at the bottom. How he’s powerless and without money and nowhere near as brave as Jiho. It stings. If only the message would stick.

He’s shouted at for what feels like an hour. He listens and doesn’t dare let that dangerous haughtiness make a reappearance. He’s sure his sister can hear from her room. 

He suffers through a painfully silent dinner and submerges himself in the plush of his bed later. He thinks not to cry as not to give them that victory, but can’t help it anyways. That’s all he ever does, cry and cry but it feels unavoidable when the whole world is against him. All he has, he concludes, is Woo Jiho and _all_ his boys. 

The majority of the week gets spent hidden away at home, avoiding attention and reading an annotated copy of some book Jiho had left weeks ago. When Kyung finally does build the courage to sneak out, he goes straight to the parking garage to find them. 

Jiho is asleep on the couch and half the boys are missing. Kyung goes directly to Jiho and makes as if wedging into the nonexistent space left there, but really ends up lying on top of Jiho. He lays there and thinks of how there’s still room to turn back. They could stop now and easily resume their normal lives. They could stop chasing the dangerous thrill of revenge, could let go of their misery. But that’s about as easy to say as it is to tell the same to Kyung, to let go of that dangerous love for Jiho and return to a simpler time. 

It’s unsettling seeing the boys be led towards their demise, watching the willingly embark on this spiral towards destruction. They’re unwinding all structure and Kyung is painfully aware of it. Can no one else see it? There’s still a window of time, enough room for them to halt here and make amends. They don’t have to keep doing this, they don’t have to risk being hurt. Kyung doesn’t want to lose anyone. 

No matter how often he’s voiced it in the past, and no matter what approach he takes, they brush him off. It’s as if only he has the hindsight to catch the unravelling of their safety. Everyone else is too far gone, too loyal, too stupid. 

Jiho awakes with a small yawn and blinks sleepy black eyes at Kyung. A small smile tugs at his lips and his face is puffy so that it looks soft and dewy. Kyung kisses his nose before he can speak, a giggle bubbling in his chest.

“Kyungie, you’re back.” Kyung gets up off him the most he can, sitting between his calves rather uncomfortably but at the very least no longer crushing him. 

Jiho sits up and stretches, runs a hand through hair that he’s dyed back to black but not yet cut short. This is nearly how Kyung had met him and yet, oddly enough, Jiho looks somewhat older now. Maybe it’s the little scar at the corner of his cheek that’s not yet healed that makes him seem that way.

“The other boys are out messing with some punk,” Jiho tells, rubbing at his face and pulling his legs from under Kyung. Kyung doesn’t like the sound of that, it seems like more fuel added to an already uncontrollable flame. It’s going to come back to bite them later.

The intuitive, analytical edge to who Jiho was when Kyung met him has dulled. Or rather, it has refocused. All the energy is no longer spent on knowing Kyung, but now has been distributed among all his other hobbies too. It has been this way for a long time, but Kyung can’t forget how it was before. Now Jiho is worn thin and turned blind, often missing cues and implications all in the desperation to force their story to fit his narrative. 

“Jiho, I think we should stop,” Kyung tries, but the older boy shakes his head and once again there’s no space left for discussion. 

It’s August and school is looming around the corner. Kyung dreads it, hates that that means he’ll have to grow accustomed to being there without Taeil and Jaehyo. He hates that he won’t get to have the free time to see Jiho whenever he wishes. But at the very least he’ll enjoy the remains of their summer break. 

Kyung is ecstatic. His parents, his siblings, they’re all gone the entire day and he’s going to have Jiho over and they’re going to do whatever they want. Kyung doesn’t even bother changing out of his pajamas after he showers, because what’s the point when he and Jiho are going to spend the whole day together indoors? Might as well be comfortable.

There is a knock at the door and Kyung is there within a second, eager to welcome Jiho in with a tug of his arm and a kiss the moment the door shuts behind him. 

They spend the evening enjoying one another’s company. Kyung lays his head on Jiho’s leg and listens to him read out passages he’s marked in the book that he has dedicated his time to lately. Jiho explains their significance to him in length, rambling on in a low voice as Kyung watches him, fingers tracing circles in the carpet absentmindedly. Later Kyung gets ahead on some studying for the upcoming semester, lying on his front with Jiho stretched out beside him, asleep. 

After cooking and eating a barely edible meal, the two end up watching TV, though they talk over the shows and miss a majority of the plot. Midway into one of the shows, Kyung sits up to lean over and kiss Jiho’s cheek because he’s bored and craves attention. Jiho turns his head slightly and grins, following Kyung’s movement with a teasing offer for a proper kiss that he retracts as soon as Kyung leans in again. 

“Hey, don’t be a jerk,” Kyung protests, turning so that he’s on his knees on the sofa, facing Jiho now. 

Jiho takes it as permission to tease further, leaning back as if repulsed by how close Kyung is getting. Kyung takes the bait, following and settling better with knees on either side of Jiho’s one leg as he huffs, “You’re so stubborn.” Jiho leads him far enough that he loses balance and falls forward on Jiho. 

Kyung grabs a fistful of Jiho’s shirt and uprights himself as Jiho laughs at him. For revenge, Kyung bites his shoulder while he’s busy laughing. Jiho pulls away, voicing a small ‘ow’, but refusing to let Kyung win. He takes Kyung’s wrists, restraining the younger from moving away now.

“What was that for?”  
“You won’t kiss me.”

Jiho breaks into a teasing grin again before abruptly releasing Kyung’s wrists to cup his face instead and bring him close for a kiss. Kyung tries to tilt his head to better the kiss, but it doesn’t work out with how Jiho is holding him. When they pull apart Jiho asks breathily, “There, happy?”

Kyung leans back to look at Jiho fully. “No, do better.” 

Without warning, Jiho’s mouth is against his own and it’s sloppy, all teeth and stifled breathing. Kyung brings his hands to Jiho’s shoulders to steady himself and distantly he shivers at the thought of how large Jiho’s hands are around his hips, holding firmly with fingers burning heat into Kyung’s skin where they accidently dip under his shirt. 

He can’t keep up, whining against Jiho’s lips and gripping his boyfriend’s shoulders tighter. At that, Jiho breaks away to let him breathe, he himself panting too, but taking only seconds pause before preoccupying himself with kissing Kyung’s neck. 

Kyung gasps at the sensation, tipping his head back to let Jiho trail kisses lower across his throat. And then it’s all too real, he’s rolling his hips almost involuntarily, grinding up against Jiho’s thigh and it’s shameful, so he hides his face against Jiho’s shoulder when he cries Jiho’s name. Jiho’s one hand leaves his hip to push at his shoulder.

“Please Kyung, please look up,” he begs. 

So, he does as asked even though he wants to cover his face and Jiho kisses him again and Kyung closes his eyes, tries to ignore how much of a mess he must look right now.

Kyung can’t even make sense of what’s happening, he just wants to get off so badly, but can’t detangle the desire from the thought that this is embarrassing. He can’t believe Jiho is seeing him like this, desperately rutting against Jiho’s thigh and whining through kiss swollen lips.

“Kyungie you look so good.” 

The breathiness, the hoarseness, of Jiho’s voice makes his head spin. Jiho’s hand leaves his hip again and Kyung glances down to find why. _Oh_. Seeing Jiho palming himself through his sweats is enough to send his mind reeling, uttering a broken whisper of Jiho’s name before he’s overcome with a blank feeling of nothing but pleasure. 

When all sense returns to him he feels a wave of shame and disbelief. This is so juvenile, so undeniably teenage-boyish, Kyung can’t rid the feeling of pure embarrassment. His pants are sticky and gross, he’s sticky and gross, and it’s overall just very sticky and gross. He got off with nothing but that and thinking of it makes him feel stupidly immature.

He wants to pull away and go clean up, but Jiho surprises him with how he pulls Kyung close for a hug. And it’s so tender that despite the uncleanliness, Kyung leans into the embrace comfortably and sets his chin on Jiho’s shoulder. 

Jiho mumbles softly near his ear, “You okay?” Kyung nods and he’s sure Jiho can feel the movement more than he can see it. He’s suddenly very tired. 

Kyung closes his eyes for a moment, let’s his breathing return to normal by letting it follow the rhythm of how Jiho’s chest rises and falls steadily under him. Jiho rubs his back soothingly and Kyung sighs. 

He doesn’t mean to, but he dozes off at some point. It’s a thankfully brief nap because Jiho is being practically crushed under his weight. 

Kyung mumbles a sleepy, “Sorry,” to Jiho, hands on the other boy’s chest as he sits up. 

They clean up in a hurry. Kyung ends up lending Jiho clothes he had stolen from him months ago for whatever reason, so at least this becomes an excuse to return borrowed things. There’s a tension of unspoken things looming over them and a tiredness that keeps them from doing much else, so they end up cuddling on the couch for the rest of the evening. They talk about mundane things and when Jiho makes his stupid, unfunny jokes, Kyung laughs against his chest and calls him dumb.

Sometime late into the night, or early into the next morning, Jiho has to go. It’s still dark out and they stand there staring at one another at the door for a while. Jiho shuffles from foot to foot, watching the ground for a moment. And then he smiles awkwardly and shyly. “I had fun, Kyungie,” He says, voice small. Then he leans forward to press a quick and very delicate kiss to Kyung’s cheek. It’s soft and sheepish and exactly how teenage relationships should go.

Kyung watches him walk down the street, wishing everyone could know that was his boyfriend leaving his home, not just a friend. Not just some boy, no, he was Kyung’s entire universe condensed into one form. Jiho was the embodiment of all the stars and the moon and the neverending sheets of sky, all perfectly contained in this one person whom Kyung could hold so comfortably in his arms. 

Summer is dreamy. Everything happens with a soft glow to it. The liquid gold of sunlight drips thick like honey across every surface, highlighting the apple of Jiho’s cheeks when he smiles and making the little silver rings in his ears glint. There’s something so lovely and romantic about it all that Kyung doesn’t mind that Jiho has a split lip one week and a black eye the next. He doesn’t bother asking at all. 

Jiho’s hair is long now, going past his ears and parted in the middle, dyed back to black after what feels like ages. Kyung likes to comb his fingers through it. It makes Jiho look so pretty. 

So pretty. Absolutely beautiful. 

It’s hard to imagine anything going wrong. But Kyung can see it from the corner of his eye, can sometimes taste the tension taut in the air or feel it under foot like gunpowder and soot. It’s there, always lurking, always at brink of toppling over. At any moment things could change, the little nicks and scrapes could turn to something bigger. Something they surely aren’t prepared to deal with.

Kyung takes a cigarette from Yukwon and holds out his hand for the lighter, impatient when it takes the older boy so long to light his own. Jiho doesn’t know yet, but Kyung tells himself it’s not because he’s been hiding it from his boyfriend. It’s just a happy coincidence. 

Yukwon talks about things but Kyung can’t recount what he’s been told. In all honesty he had quickly zoned out once they reached the street of the parking lot. Hastily he had dropped the cigarette to the ground, bitter at wasting nearly half of it, and stepped on it. And he did try to listen to Yukwon a little longer, only once they were up the steps and Jiho was in sight, it was hard to think of anyone or thing but Jiho. 

The older boy was leaned against one of the beams of the lot, fingers playing with the chain around his neck. Kyung watches those long, slim fingers and the way the gold dances around them, how it traces a half circle around his neck too, and how the collar of his shirt dips down low under it. 

He’s desperate for more. 

If there was a sliver of desire in Kyung before, now that lust is only multiplied. Ever since that night with Jiho, pressed against him on his couch, Kyung hasn’t been able to shake the thought. They could do that more often. He wants to do it more often. But Jiho hasn’t really mentioned it and Kyung thinks it’s better not to mention it either. 

He can lie to himself all he wants, but the underlying cause to his aversion to initiating anything again is plainly that he’s afraid. He doesn’t really want Jiho to see him naked, what if Jiho doesn’t like him? What if he’s not good enough- Jiho has dated other boys, boys who are probably more experienced with sex. This could easily be a disaster, a reason for Jiho to finally break up with him, Kyung thinks. He doesn’t know anything, this could become more embarrassing than anything else he’s ever experienced. What if _he_ doesn’t like it, what if it hurts and he’s miserable the whole time and can’t keep up with Jiho. There’s so much that could go wrong. 

He’s thinking about it then too, standing around in the empty lot, when Seunghoon calls to him. “Hey, kid. Time to catch up on the grown-up talk.” Kyung rolls his eyes and grins, worries easily forgotten as he goes to join him, Jinwoo and Jiho. Grown-up talk, because right, he’s not one of them. He doesn’t mind so much now, doesn’t let the teasing go to heart, not when Seunghoon’s subtly readjusted his words to be less patronizing and more playful.

They’re looking over a map that they’ve snagged from a bus stop. Various locations have been marked in red and blue pen, the red held in Seunghoon’s hand now. “All this marked in red,” Seunghoon begins, following the lines with one finger, “Don’t hang around there, we’ve got bad blood.” Kyung’s smile vanishes.

“We should stop, this is dangerous,” Kyung suggests slowly, watching the red and blue lines tangle like veins and arteries do. Seunghoon shrugs. “It’s not so bad, just be careful, watch your step, you’ll be okay. You’re a smart kid.” Kyung feels sick to his stomach. He has to blame Jiho, Jiho should never have let this begin all those months ago when he first smashed in that car’s windows. 

In a quaint town with excitement never to be found, things like this were quick to explode. This was no longer a discussion of morality, they had long since crossed that point. It was unsafe. But this is something he’s fought over with Jiho countless times. It’s strained their relationship and made Kyung burn with annoyance. They’ve always argued over the right and wrong of it, but that’s in the past. Kyung doesn’t even care about the guilt that comes with being delinquent to society, he just wants to go back to being safe as he can possibly be while being simultaneously queer. Maybe that’s his mistake, thinking it’s possible to have security while still straying from normalcy. 

In all truthfulness, he thinks maybe he’s a coward for thinking like this. Jiho is never afraid, yet from the start, he himself has always feared the outcome that will reach them soon if not now. And, under the guise of fear and concern for his lover, the truth lies ugly and selfish: he is most afraid for himself.

Kyung nods slowly and leaves the other three to discussing things further on their own. He’s uninterested in the details of it. 

School starts soon after that day and Kyung doesn’t like it. It’s odd having to spend more time with Yoon and Mino now that Taeil and Jaehyo are out of school and working more hours. Jihoon remains a constant in his school life, but it’s definitely lacking when he turns to find the absence of his other friends replaced by Yoon and Mino. He knows that it’s somewhat unfair to dislike Yoon so much, but he can’t really help it. 

It’s still warm out, still lovely and gold. For some reason, Kyung has a hard time falling into routine of the academic life he had once wholeheartedly dedicated himself to. His entire life used to revolve around school, around grades and dream colleges and extracurriculars. He once would have joined clubs and dedicated time to perfecting his image for soon to be written applications. But now the essays and forms rest empty on his desk for days and days, neglected as his interest strayed from them. Reputation didn’t seem to matter anymore. What did any of it matter when those papers were never meant to contain the real story of Kyung, and whatever wasn’t real wasn’t very interesting, wasn’t very honest. Of course, he knows he needs to fill them out eventually, but right now the inspiration evades him. He’d much rather do absolutely nothing.

Most of the boys have work so Kyung wanders off on his own, making a detour on the way home to get a bottle of soda first. He's headed to the front to pay when he stops briefly to think, attention catching on other things. 

After he's paid he's hastily shoving a box of condoms into his bag along with a crumpled receipt. It's an impulse decision but he figures—no, _hopes_ —he's not wrong in assuming the need. 

Kyung misses not being so busy. He misses when everyone else’s busy times didn’t happen to be the only times he was free. He considers ditching school for it, and actually does one evening. It’s just that it’s been nearly a week since he’s seen Jiho and he misses him so much that when Jiho asks if Kyung is free Friday, Kyung says yes, that it’s a staff workday and school is out. 

They don’t even do anything particularly exciting. They walk around a shopping center for a while, but the scrutiny of others keeps them from being beyond friendly, which leads them to going back to Jiho’s apartment to huddle together on the couch and talk over music that Jiho plays. Jiho gives Kyung a copy of his keys at some point, giving some vague reason about how they never know what could happen. It unsettles Kyung, but he knows the concern is valid. Jiho has seen it firsthand, and knows how scary it is to have nowhere to go. 

Kyung stays as long as possible, pouting when Jiho says he has to leave for work. 

And then Yoon rats Kyung out the very next day, very loudly questioning why Kyung had missed school. Jiho sounds incredibly upset about it. Kyung wants to argue back, because what right does Jiho have to criticize him when he’s dropped out nearly a year ago, but he refrains from it. Instead he lets Jiho sternly scold him, talking on and on about the things he knows Kyung is meant for that he doesn’t want to distract from. There’s even an edge of guilt in Jiho’s voice, but Kyung wouldn’t be able to tell why. 

The following week is unbearably boring. Kyung wishes Jiho didn’t take his advice so seriously and didn’t work all the time. Seunghoon and Jinwoo are back to being part-time students at their local college so Kyung can’t really bug them anymore either. So, he ends up settling for a rather boring routine of school and homework and missing Jiho all the time.

He sees Jiho sometimes briefly on Saturdays. That’s when most everyone is free, meeting up at their usual place to chat about all the things they’ve been up to lately, the violent things and the mundane things too. Kyung sits in Jiho’s lap, excuse being that there is no space left on the couch with how so many of the others have crammed into the small space too. Jiho pauses mid-sentence when talking to Mino to leave a chaste peck at Kyung’s neck, hand drawing patterns against Kyung’s thigh. Kyung remains fixated on Jiho’s hand, watching slender fingers and the veins that run smooth under pale skin. He wonders if Jiho is thinking similarly, if there’s even a slim, minute fraction of his mind wondering and wanting too. Later, maybe later, when they’re alone. 

Warm breath against his ear, down his neck. Hands wander up his chest, under his shirt. So good, so good. He backs into the solid body behind him, closes his eyes. Overwhelming. He tips his head back, mouth falling open. Hands wander lower, touch him better. There's quiet panting, hushed curses and bitten back moans. He's so close. “Jiho, Jiho—” 

The following morning, Kyung wakes up embarrassingly sticky. And frustrated. He can't see Jiho today, not with the guilt of this clinging to his mind. He wouldn't be able to face Jiho after this. Another week goes by, this one happily without Jiho. 

With that, the week is also prey to all the thoughts Kyung has been thinking and then reassessing continuously for the past month. What if he and Jiho _do_ end up having sex? He’s not completely sure of himself yet, doesn’t want to let Jiho down. But he can’t see any point in waiting either, not when there’s an evident tension building between them. And it can’t be one-sided, Kyung is sure, because that one evening most certainly happened and Jiho hadn’t been opposed in the slightest. But even if Jiho was interested then, he might not be after. 

Kyung thinks to bother Seunghoon for advice again, but when he does finally get the chance to catch Seunghoon when he’s not busy, Jinwoo is there too, and they mainly pester him about the importance of safe sex, to which Kyung responds with a roll of the eyes and an annoyed, “What are you? My parents?” 

“You come asking me questions as if we were,” Seunghoon counters, and that has Kyung silenced because that’s exactly the truth. 

It ends up being that the first time they have sex with one another, it’s a lot more asking and talking than Kyung would have anticipated. It makes all the prior overthinking seem foolish and over the top. Jiho is so open, so honest, that there’s no apprehension left to be had. 

Kyung sits on Jiho’s bed, slightly pulled away from him now and watching the other boy. “This is okay, right?” Jiho speaks through puffy lips and Kyung tries to focus on that rather than dropping his gaze to Jiho’s pants. Kyung nods, head feeling stuffed with cotton. 

Jiho tugs Kyung closer by the wrist and he complies easily. One of Jiho’s hands is on his thigh. Kyung isn’t sure he can wait much longer. He gets close as he can, kisses Jiho’s jaw tenderly, and sits with his full weight across Jiho’s lap, hoping to find some pressure or friction from the movement. 

Then there’s Jiho’s hands coming to the waistband of Kyung’s jeans and fingers fiddling with the button. Suddenly it’s a bit too real, and Kyung thinks to stammer, “I’ve never- I mean, not with a boy.”

The other boy doesn’t laugh, instead nodding solemnly and taking Kyung’s hand. “I’ll take care of you,” He promises gently and so sincerely, black eyes fixed on Kyung’s expression and watching intently. Kyung squeezes Jiho’s hand and nods back.

Jiho prompts further, “What do you want to do?” Kyung doesn’t understand, so Jiho tries again:

“I don’t mind, you can fuck me if you want. Or not.” 

For a minute Kyung’s breath catches and he’s dizzied at the thought. It’s so tempting, he’s never thought of fucking Jiho, it’s always the other way around in his fantasies. This is a new concept and he thinks he could learn to like it a little too much. 

But, it’s certainly all a little too new for him. Kyung shakes his head, sounding a little breathless when he says, “No, no. You can- you just…” Understanding the fragments of words, Jiho nods again, hand vanishing from Kyung’s and now returning to his hips. 

“It’s okay, don’t be tense,” the older boy soothes, rubbing circles into the skin under Kyung’s shirt, above the waistband of his jeans. Kyung eases into Jiho’s hold, sighing into another kiss. 

It helps that it’s very tentative, very careful. It’s nothing like how people make it sound, Kyung thinks. There’s no rushing, Jiho is so patient with him. And there’s no frustrated biting and pushing and forcing; Jiho is gentle and careful with every movement, always asking “Is this okay?” and “I’m not hurting you, am I?” in small murmured whispers. It’s messy and inexperienced and they still have much to learn about one another but Kyung is sure he’d have nobody else to experience this first with. 

After, they lay next to one another silently and out of breath, Jiho half collapsed on top of Kyung. Then Jiho hauls himself up to find a towel to clean up with and Kyung lazily watches. 

“You’re okay, right?” Jiho gingerly cleans Kyung and runs a hand up and down his thigh in a soothing pattern. Kyung nods, struggling to keep his eyes open now. He’s tired and wants to hold Jiho. He gestures for the older boy, reaching his arms out and grabbing at the air. “I want to hold you.” Jiho smiles, shy and soft, obliging instantly. There’s a small pleased hum from Jiho when Kyung cuddles him close. 

Surprisingly enough, nothing really changes after that. Jiho is still too busy when Kyung is free for them to hang out much, and when they do meet up on weekends it’s generally with the other boys. Kyung doesn’t mind, of course he doesn’t. He likes to be with them, they’re basically his family now. 

But that weekend something occurs to Kyung. Listening to them talk, hearing the nature of their situation, a fear is revived in Kyung. They’re talking about adult things with the nonchalance of children. They speak with an air that claims immortality. Kyung wishes they could know how hopeless this revenge game is. But they’re deaf to it, nothing could convince them now.

Things go downhill fast. Kyung had never anticipated his love would drag him down to a situation as such so quickly. Maybe it's not too late to go back, but only Kyung thinks that. Everyone else is unquestionably in it until the end, it seems. Kyung feels sorry for them and for himself too. 

_He doesn’t see any wrong with what he is now. Everything he has done, everything he will do, it’s all for Kyung; it’s all for you, he promise. He knows he can never wash the doubt from Kyung’s eyes, and even worse, can’t rid them of fear. It’s a small price to pay, he decides. Soon, Kyung will learn that they don’t need to be afraid. He’ll take care of them both, so they’ll never be alone ever again. They’ll never need help from anyone else._

_He’s confident in his abilities, so he keeps swearing on it. Kyung won’t believe him, but he doesn’t blame his lover for being afraid. He was afraid too, at first. But not now, never again._

_He keeps reassuring, says that it doesn’t hurt so much when he comes home bruised and bleeding for the third time that week. It’s for us, and that’s why it doesn’t hurt so much. Of course, his lover won’t believe him, he still watches so worriedly, looks like he might cry (and sometimes he does). It’s a small price to pay for where they’re going._

_He lets Kyung take care of him, really needs it too, in all honesty. He showers his boyfriend in love and affection but he knows it’s not enough, that even if Kyung gives a smile or responds sweetly, it’s not enough to soothe the pain and worry and the longing for simplicity. This lifestyle couldn’t ever be enough in that aspect, but frustration turns kids blind to the things they should pay careful attention to. But Jiho swears it on his life, they’ll be okay._

Sunday night Kyung sneaks out to see Jiho. It’s cold, but not in the way summer nights are. It’s the cold of the sun setting earlier than he’s accustomed to, cold with long shadows and the feeling of there being looming figures at every corner.

Jiho holds Kyung’s hand in the pocket of his jacket. They walk close to one another, recounting a week’s worth of chatter. Kyung listens to Jiho ramble on about work, and then about his car breaking down, and about how he’s meaning to get a haircut soon. Kyung tells him that maybe he should wait, that the long hair isn’t so bad. Jiho laughs, evidently flustered and Kyung wishes so badly that he could kiss him.

They walk for a long time, ending up further from home than expected. It's not until they run into a group of older looking men loitering under the flickering lights of a bar that the couple stop. 

Jiho takes Kyung’s wrist to lead him back the way they came, but it's a little too late because some of the men have noticed their presence already. From among them one of the men, one who has one hand wrapped in bandaging, pushes his way towards Kyung and Jiho. “It's them,” He declares, pointing at Kyung. 

Everything that comes next is a blur. There are too many people to handle for Kyung and Jiho to have any luck, even if it is a clean fight. They beat both boys excessively, even when it's obvious they have the upper hand and could easily end it there. Then there's talk about getting other people, about what they'll do next. None of it sounds like empty threats anymore, not when they have Jiho restrained by the wrists with a blade at his throat. 

Kyung tries to call for Jiho, but they're quick to shut him up with another punch to the stomach and a hand over his mouth. 

Kyung is so disoriented he's not sure where they get taken until he recognizes the stairs of his parking garage. Why here? There's something cruel about them picking this location, a place that had become haven to Kyung and the others. 

“You threw one of ours from the roof here, remember?” Kyung shudders. It's Jiho's fault, this is all Jiho’s fault. He can't believe he let himself be dragged into this. 

Kyung truly hates himself. 

A knee digs between his shoulder blades, pushing his face into the rough gravel. A figure appears from among the increasing number of men gathered. It comes across that he's their Jiho or their Seunghoon, as everyone obediently gives space for him to speak. 

"You're what possessed that bastard to think he could start acting up?" From where he lays, if he really strains, he can see Jiho held up by two other men, tense but no longer fighting. Bored of Kyung, they're circling him, chatting it up like they've got all the time in the world. And they do. The only people who know about this are the ones in the room. 

"Why'd you let him get silly ideas like that?" There's laughing and someone pushes at Kyung's face with their foot. Jiho doesn't even glance in his direction. There's more laughing, and the man kicks at Kyung's face again, just for the reaction. He feels utterly humiliated. When Jiho refuses to even look, there’s a curious, brief silence. The man in charge of them laughs, gets up and approaches Jiho so that they're face to face.

"What? He's just your bitch? Just keep him around because he's got a good mouth?" There's snickering, and somehow this feels worse. Kyung's face burns with how degrading it is. He wants Jiho to deny it, but there's only that man’s voice continuing. "You've got that poor kid delusional. Your type really are sick." Kyung closes his eyes, doesn't want to see Jiho. They're discussing something, but Kyung can't be sure what. 

"Stupid son of a bitch. Disgusting fag" They hit him. Kyung knows because he hears a choked groan, the sound of feet slipping, and then silence. Silence, silence, silence and then it starts again. It initiates at once, beating and kicking and an endless string of biting slurs. Kyung opens his eyes then, because not being able to see is too frightening. He can see Jiho really well now, all bruised and bloody, lying pathetically on the ground. They hold him down and turn his head roughly. In that moment, he can't think of anything more shameful, face wet with tears. 

"We wanna send a message to all your kind. They'll see you hanging from a street lamp and they'll know. They'll keep out of this shit, stop thinking themselves worth living." That man returns to Kyung and presses a hand against Kyung’s lower back. It feels violating. Then his shirt is pulled up and his heart drops when he realizes that man has taken his switchblade from him. Tired and helpless, Jiho only watches it from the corner of his eye. The man returns and presses the silver metal to Jiho's temple, applies pressure slowly and purposefully. Jiho fidgets then and there's only more snickering in response. A hand tugs at his hair, pulling up his head with it so his neck is strained. Tilting the blade just so, they cut a lock, letting his head loose so suddenly that his head smacks against the ground. Kyung shuffles against the force holding him down, as if involuntarily having the urge to move towards Jiho. He wants to hold Jiho's face to carefully wipe the little streams of blood away with his fingers.

Of course, that's a silly ideality, instead they notice even this minor reaction and return to Kyung. "A real loyal whore" The laughing has subsided, there's something grave about the anger they must feel now. They've left Jiho to lay on the ground with only one of the men holding him down. That man again, he kneels by Kyung, touches a finger to his cheek and tuts. "You're a good kid, huh? That fag ruined you." He draws his hand away from Kyung's face and sighs exaggeratedly, returning his attention to the switchblade. Grabbing at the collar of his shirt, he places the blade there and tugs down, exposing the upper portion of Kyung’s back, a smooth expanse of pale skin, unmarred and pristine. Definitely a good kid, someone from a whole different world. 

He keeps waiting for something to happen, but the only indicator of action is the sound of metal dropping. There's shuffling as someone sounds like they're looking for something, then a clicking sound. 

There's a long pause. Entire minutes even.

He feels it rather than sees it, when hot metal seers into his flesh, making a first line near one shoulder blade, and when he instinctively tries to push away from the ground, someone forces his arms down and holds them firmly there. His breathing turns erratic yet he can't find the time to be ashamed of his fear now. He wants to scream but no sound comes. He feels light headed, the pain so inexplicably horrid that he can tell he’s on the brink of fainting. The rod returns to his flesh, starts work at another uneven line, but pulls away at the sound of a shout and scrambling footsteps. Kyung forces himself up the most he can in the momentarily loosened hold to see Jiho clumsily breaking away only to get pushed towards the ground twice as roughly as the first time. 

"Dime a dozen. Maybe this time get yourself a real bitch. Stop this abnormal bullshit."

Kyung wants to go back to that first August he had known Jiho, wishes he had stuck close to his old friends. It's impossible to fathom something worth this mess. In the face of fear, he has to acknowledge his own selfishness, concludes that he's too afraid and too tired of all this. 

Watching is all he can do, so he doesn't move even marginally when a majority of the men return to Jiho. This is a little cruel. One pushes him down with more force, smothering him almost, as if wanting to crush all his ribs between the weight and the concrete below. Maybe aware for the first time of his mortality and the inescapable demise upcoming, Jiho turns violent in his trying to tear away. Kyung just closes his eyes, listens to the voiceless scrambling. It reminds him of chickens being slaughtered, struggling desperately in wild jolts of energy and sporadic spasms of limbs. He can imagine it scarily well, Jiho's neck limp and jaw unhinged in the way chickens turn rubbery in their movement too, after death. There's not a moment of silence, which is painful reassurance that at least Jiho isn't dead yet. Maybe it'd be better if he were dead. 

The struggling dies down, becomes less desperate and loud. Kyung doesn’t dare watch now, he doesn’t want to know. So he just waits.

Part of him had thought that they were truly going to die. There was nothing else left to hope for. Maybe this was how it was meant to be. Maybe everyone was right, people like Kyung and Jiho weren’t supposed to be alive. And right then, that felt okay. If it meant no more having to suffer, it was just fine. Kyung would be okay, he’d be completely content with it. Of course, there were things he wishes he’d have said beforehand, maybe he should’ve said sorry for being like this. He’d have told everyone he’s sorry, but it’s okay that this is how it ends because at least he can’t hurt anymore.

It doesn’t end up being so easy. There’s lots of yelling. Kyung is barely conscious. At some point he must have actually passed out. He sees Jaehyo, catches sight of Mino. Someone is there, oh, Jihoon, forcing the people away from him. And then there’s Jinwoo who helps him up and leads him away. Faintly Kyung realizes where they are, that they’re heading to the maintenance room besides the dormant elevator. Kyung throws a glance over his shoulder to see the chaos, to see Jiho lying limp in the center of it. 

The adrenaline seems to have lost all its charm, in fact, it doesn’t even feel exhilarating anymore. Right now, it feels like a cool kiss of morphine has met his veins, dizzying him and dragging slow under his skin to inhibit all sensations of pain. His head feels heavy, a painless pulsation at his temple, as if a headache were supposed to be there. The cool of the wall is pressed against him, rubbing an unbearable friction between the burn on his shoulder and its surface. He tips his head back and stares at the ceiling, swallows thickly and tries to ignore all the dull aching. 

“They hurt you?” Kim Jinwoo sits beside him, so pretty even with the streaks of blood dripping from his head, dying strands of soft brown hair a dark maroon. 

Kyung looks at him from the corner of his eyes and croaks a hoarse, “Yeah. It really hurts.” Jinwoo nods. 

“You must hate Jiho right now,” Jinwoo says rather conversationally, as if they aren’t hiding while their friends take a good beating for their sakes. 

“Yeah, I do. Don’t you hate Seunghoon too?” 

Jinwoo shakes his head and smiles sweetly. He seems untroubled as always, scarily pristine in how he presents himself so that there are no emotions besides calm and control available for the viewing. “You have to make choices, Kyung.” 

“You make choices all the time, and that means it’s your fault too. You could go home at any time and never turn back. You don’t owe Jiho, or any of these boys, anything at all.” Kyung doesn’t dare speak, there’s something unsettling about the serenity that fills Jinwoo’s voice. And then the older man sets a challenging stare on Kyung. “And if this was all a game, a fun little pastime for a bored high schooler like yourself, they don’t have to know that when you leave them.” Kyung looks away. 

Jinwoo keeps talking, but to Kyung’s relief, the words are less accusative now, “I was like you, and I chose Seunghoon. Nam Taehyun chose Seunghoon too and he died making choices like that.” Kyung holds his breath, gaze flicking back to the man sitting beside him. “If you want to live like this, if you want to make the right choices even, you have to know your own capacity very, very well, Kyung. How far can you go?” 

These questions are too honest, could strip him to the bones and leave behind the barest of truths. And that strikes fear deep in him, makes him clench his jaw and bite hard into the soft inside of his cheek. He curls his fingers around nothing, grips at whatever sanity he has left.

He wishes Jiho were dead. If Jiho were dead he would never have to answer these things, he’d never have to think of them. If Jiho were dead he’d cry and cry and then he would be liberated. It would do Jiho good too, if he were dead. Then he wouldn’t have to worry so much about being completely unloved in this world, he wouldn’t have to be so angry and frustrated all the time. Jiho’s parents should never have kicked him out of their home, even if they were certain he’d die on the streets alone within weeks. They should have done it themselves, they should have killed their son then, saving everyone else from the burden that Jiho had become. 

Kyung never answers Jinwoo and in return Jinwoo doesn’t push any further. They sit in silence, Kyung’s senses returning as the adrenaline dies, making all the pain so vivid and unbearable. 

It feels like hours that pass before the door creaks open. Kyung glances up, not tense in the slightest. If someone has come to finish beating him to death, so be it, he thinks to himself bitterly. He’s too tired, too defeated, to resist anymore. 

But it’s only Seunghoon, a serious, pensive type of look turning his usual aloofness into grave concern. Jinwoo gives a tense smile, a rare fraction of discomfort and worry breaking through his visage, before he turns to look at Kyung. 

“They hurt you bad, huh kid? They hurt you real bad,” Seunghoon says, not really asking, just mumbling it for no apparent reason. Kyung suddenly can’t even muster the energy to utter a response. His head feels heavy. It feels like his skin is peeling away at his shoulder, slowly and with excruciating pain. “You did all right. They hurt you but you’ll be alright,” Seunghoon keeps repeating, voice teetering on the edge of cracking, as he stoops down to help Kyung up. Kyung stares at him, unable to decipher the expression Seunghoon gives him. He’s never seen him like this, never heard him sound like this. Kyung wonders if something's gone wrong, if he’s really messed up this time. Maybe Seunghoon is sure now that Kyung isn’t one of their kind, maybe he’s really disappointed that Kyung has failed the boys. Kyung feels miserable thinking that. He’s really sorry for disappointing Seunghoon so bad.

They walk out and Jinwoo casts Kyung a pitying frown as he nearly stumbles and falls on his way past the door. Seunghoon keeps him upright, wincing when he catches sight of Kyung’s back. Kyung wonders if it really is so bad looking. It feels pretty bad.

Some of their boys are hanging around where Kyung last saw Jiho, looking beat up and exhausted but thankfully still in one piece. Although he doesn’t express it, he’s inwardly relieved to see them all in relatively good shape. 

“Kyung, you’re alright,” Comes the concerned voice of Taeil, and then other worried prompts follow from all the other boys. 

Kyung ignores them. “Where’s Jiho?”

There are some panicked glances exchanged, words inaudibly mumbled, some awkward shuffling. Seunghoon clears his throat and asks instead, “Do you want to go home, Kyung?” 

They don’t usually let him go home. Something must be wrong. He tries again, voice stern, “Where’s Jiho?” Then silence follows. 

“Where is he? Where did you take Jiho? Where?” He grips on to Seunghoon’s sleeve desperately, pulling away to look directly at him and nearly falling. 

Maybe Jiho is dead. And this is what he wanted, isn’t it? Then why does he feel so sick? If Kyung has known fear before, it is nothing in comparison to how he experiences this frightening unknowingness. There’s a chilling cold that grips his heart and makes his breathing come in shallow panting. Not knowing is horrid.

Seunghoon steadies him, holds him upright when anxiety urges Kyung to curl in on himself. “Kyung, me and Jinwoo are taking you to our place, okay?” Kyung doesn’t answer. 

Kyung cries. He cries nearly all night while Seunghoon and Jinwoo take turns rotating ice cold towels at the corner of his back, whispering concerns to one another then mumbling comforting words to Kyung. Now in the quiet safety of their home, the pain comes back more alive. Whenever the cool of the towels leaves, that searing bite quickly revisits him. It stings so much so that he bites into the palm of his own hand to muffle crying and can’t focus on anything else. And when his melted flesh isn't what keeps him in agony, it's the dull throbbing pain of all the blossoming bruises from being beaten.

He must have fallen asleep at some point, but for barely any time at all. He’s in their bed, Seunghoon half hanging off one side of it and Jinwoo nowhere to be seen. Kyung hadn’t expected the older man to be there and accidently wakes him when turning over. 

“Seunghoon?”  
“Mhhm, what kid?” comes a groggy response.  
“Where’s Jiho?”

A deep sigh follows. Seunghoon rubs his face and stretches his arms above his head. He sits up, legs hanging off the side of the bed, and asks, “Still hurt?” Kyung gives a tiny nod. 

Kyung refuses breakfast, he still feels weirdly out of it. Jinwoo had slept on the sofa, Kyung learns. He feels bad that the two of them went so out of their way to take care of him when all he’s done is let them down. 

Numbly Kyung tells them he has to go. After a mechanical thank you, he quietly slips out the door before they can protest it. He heads for Jiho’s home, the route there ingrained in his mind and made muscle memory. He goes up the steps, winces at how his back aches under the day-time sun, unlocks the door. 

It’s dark and empty. He goes to the kitchen. The fridge is empty. Who knows for how long. Kyung freezes by it, the door hanging open and its yellow light illuminating his face an ugly color. It’s empty. 

All those days Jiho had been working, all the times he had said he was busy, was it all a _lie_? Kyung lets go of the fridge door, hands shaking. There’s no indication of living, the trash is empty, the sink stacked with dishes that have been left unwashed so long there are solidified flecks of food left across them. Kyung feels everything spinning.

Slowly he shuts the fridge door. He leaves the kitchen and sits for a moment at the couch. He feels oddly blank, without the usual overwhelming thoughts. Maybe this is what betrayal feels like and it’s so new to him that he can’t understand. Or maybe he’s become so accustomed to it that it no longer stings. 

He looks up from his hands and sees the painting Jiho had made all those months ago. The one of the yellow fields that he had made when he was not yet dropped out of high school, back in that warm art class that Kyung had visited him in, where he had pressed colorful fingerprints into the corner of the canvas. 

Kyung stares at the painting and frowns. Carefully he removes it from the wall and hugs it close to his chest. And he sits for so long just holding it, the soft corners of it poking into his waist and the flat edges of it uncomfortable to embrace. It gets dark and Jiho doesn't come home. Kyung gets up with the painting still in hand and it's funny, it's like a bouquet of flowers that have long since died in the hands of a stubborn lover. He goes to the kitchen with it held and maybe if they were really flowers and if he really still loved the rolling yellow fields painted across it, he'd fill a vase with water at the sink for it. But a lot has changed. So, he pulls open the drawer and takes the first utensil he can find, a butter knife, and tears through the fabric of the canvas. The field splits and curls and dies in his hands. It's irreversible and that only occurs to him once it’s over, once he's run water over it in the sink as if he could wash the evidence away. Frustrated but mostly sad he goes to their room and cries. 

Another thing ruined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♡


	14. Lifetimes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Many times, things can heal and grow anew; blood is replaced, recreated, reintroduced, easily. But somethings aren’t as easy._

Everything blurs in the dark. Everything is delirious and imbalanced with the heaviness in his head, with the dizziness that's spinning the outside world. It hurts so much, as if something had split and cracked his bones into unidentifiable splinters, so that they might never be rearranged. Breathing is hard. He tries to remain awake, but even with the pain that eats at every nerve ending, there’s something that insists he close his eyes. It wishes him to rest, sings a soft whisper to lull him into a painless rest. _No, don’t listen_. It’s so tempting, so desirable, to quit suffering. 

“I think we’ve messed up,” says the person besides him, voice tense. He closes his eyes, but somehow the blackness there spins too. The words pound at his skull, echoing and repeating. “You messed up and Kyung won’t forgive you, will he?” 

 

Night terrifies Kyung, it’s too soon to be trusting it. But he has no better choice, another day away from home will have his parents enraged. And if someone hits him one more time Kyung thinks he won’t be able to get up. So, he wipes his face and wills himself to quit crying. Before leaving he checks the cabinets for painkillers, but unsurprisingly, there are only empty containers. 

When he stops at a store to buy a bottle of painkillers, he grabs a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, too. He pays for none of it. 

He walks an unnecessary circle around the block once as way of getting through a second cigarette before going home.

The lights of his home seem so bright, like the lights of an operating room illuminating all in a washed out white. He freezes at the way everyone turns away from the dining table to look at him. There’s the cold clatter of utensils dropped and hushed gasps. 

“Kyung, what happened to your face?” He steps back when they begin to approach him, almost cowering at the attention that they bring to him. He wants to tell them to stop, _go away, go away_. A hand touches his face, presses too harshly against the bruises and scrapes there, and the voice that follows sounds strangely cold too, “Is someone bullying you at school, Kyung, sweetheart?” He wants to push them aside, run away. He wishes he had run away with Jiho last spring break. 

He stares up at them, blinking fast and too overwhelmed to come up with anything to respond with. The questions won’t cease, they keep prompting for the story. But he can’t tell them, can’t they understand that he can’t tell them?

“L-let me take a shower first,” He finally manages to choke out, pushing them away as the desperation to have space overcomes him and turns him breathless. 

With the water turned as cold as possible, he takes a long shower, relishing in the relief of the cooling sensation against the burn on his back. He watches the water at his feet and tries not to concentrate on all the bruises on his legs, at the way his knees are caked in bloodied scabs. After he steps out, the distant burning at his back is quick to revisit, and when he looks to the mirror, the soft blues and purples and sickeningly darkened black patches from being bluntly beaten repulse him. He looks ugly. 

Cleaning all the cuts on his own is painful and slow. He clenches his jaw and hisses at the way it stings when he tries to wipe away excess blood. He makes an effort to look put together, even takes the time in finding a long-sleeved shirt, so that when he eventually returns to his family the horrors are minimized. 

He stands before the sink and pours out the contents of the bottle he had taken before coming home. For a brief moment, just for a single long minute or maybe two, he considers taking them all. The impulse comes to him in a scarily calm occurrence, drifting eerily peaceful across his thoughts and his fingers twitch with the urge to really do it. He wouldn't have to ever hurt this bad ever again. 

He has to force the thought away, placing only two in his mouth and swallowing them without water. Another two, a dozen, two dozen, how many could he take? How long would it be? Foolishly he indulges in the thought. What if he really died? Then his parents would feel sorry, they'd have to live with the guilt forever. And Jiho, Jiho would feel horrible, wouldn't he? Kyung would want him to take all the blame, to take the burden and let it consume him forever. Kyung wants Jiho to burn like he did, and if Kyung were to take that handful more, then Jiho would. Would Jiho come to his funeral? Probably, and then his parents would come to meet Jiho and like that Kyung’s two worlds would clash and merge but it'd be too late. It wouldn't matter to Kyung in the slightest, he would never know. But at the very least he'd go with the satisfaction of knowing Jiho would be suffering too. 

Kyung returns to confirm his parents’ suspicions. Yes, he was bullied, it was in no way his own fault. He has no names of anyone else involved. They’re quick to put on their caring act. It's all a lie, it's fake, Kyung tells himself. He can't trust them, can't let himself fall for it, because he knows they'd turn on him in a second if they knew the truth. 

He returns to his room after, incredibly tired. He can’t even find the energy to move the blanket from his bed and instead just lies across it, gaze fixed on the ceiling. 

_I don’t care where Jiho is_ , he thinks to himself bitterly. It doesn’t matter to him where Jiho is, why should he bother worrying about him? _I don’t care if he’s dead. I hope he’s dead._ Not even a second passes before guilt comes to haunt him, a chill of worry turning him pale at the thought that Jiho might really have died, that he doesn’t want Jiho dead. 

“Kyung…?” 

He looks away from the wall to see his sister standing in the doorway. 

“You’re lying, aren’t you?” 

He returns his attention to the ceiling, the dull throbbing behind his eyes, across the front of his head, returns. Everything aches.

What can he tell her? There’s no way he could even begin to explain the story of it, it’s become so unfathomable and absurd that even he himself can’t believe it. 

“I’m okay. I’m alright,” Kyung tells her, forcing himself to refrain from turning to see her face again. For whatever reason, he can’t lie to her so directly. It’s not easy in the way that it is to speak lies to his parents. 

The way time passes these days is something like a hysterical haze. It is nonsensical and unnavigable, like violent waves that make it preferable to choose succumbing to its chilling grasp rather than furthering that violent struggle. Kyung presses his eyes shut tight, wishes he didn’t have to wake every single morning to the same dull pain of bruises pressed uncomfortably into his skin and the blistering across his shoulder and the distant unease of not knowing where Jiho is. 

He has to go to school. He sees Yoon who has a nasty black eye, but even then the enthusiasm, the optimism, doesn’t evade him. He leans forward on the table and with a pout insists, “Kyung, come see Seunghoon today, he and Jinwoo are asking about you.” Kyung shakes his head immediately, the shame of having burdened them being too much to let him agree. 

Time goes by slow. Kyung tries to get through his school work, tries his best to start up on those essays and applications that have been calling his name for a long time, but the whisper of his name comes stronger from other places. He wants nothing to do with this mundane lifestyle. Even with the branding of an outsider burned into the flesh of his back, he has yet to learn any lesson. In fact, that mark only further affirms what they all should have known by now, that Kyung is undeniably one of them.

The world spins. The bottle of painkillers empties. The cigarettes are burned into the outside ledge of his window sill. What makes it worse is that the world carries on as it always does. No one is weighed down by it, and Kyung learns the insignificance of himself. He is incredibly lonely in that moment.

Cold fall nights he leans out his window and indulges in the kiss of another cigarette. Ashy gray stretches up into the night sky, the same sky under which all those months ago Kyung had thought to run away with Jiho. He wishes they had, it could have been so easy. Of course, realistically that makes no sense, because if he suffers under this sky, he would suffer there too. It’s the same overlooking stars, the same world, the same hatred everywhere. But it feels as if running away would have been easier. He presses the cigarette into the window sill and sighs, wishes he had another. 

Eventually he has to seek out the truth. He has no clue where Jiho is. He hasn’t seen anyone but Mino, Yoon and Jihoon in the past two days. He misses Jiho. He’s worried about Jiho. 

He meets the boys for lunch at some cheap burger joint. Everyone gives way for an awkward silence around Kyung, treating him as if he were made of fragile glass. He must look really bad. 

“Kyung, you doing alright? We’ve been worried…” Seunghoon tries hesitantly, glancing apprehensively between the others and then Kyung. Kyung stays watching his food, leaving it entirely untouched. 

“Where’s Jiho?” There’s another uncomfortably long silence, and tired, listless sighing. 

Seunghoon clears his throat and sits up. “Look, let’s go for a walk, fresh air will do you good.” Kyung doesn’t protest, he doesn’t have the energy to bicker anymore. 

He walks beside Seunghoon, hands in tight fists in his pockets and gaze fixed on the pavement below. For a long while, neither says anything. Kyung knows Seunghoon is looking for a way to begin talking, searching for the right words. They’re all so careful now, as if just realizing that he’s not cut out for this type of lifestyle, that he’s afraid and vulnerable and now they’ve ruined that innocence he had once fostered. 

Seunghoon reaches in his pocket for a cigarette. The click of the lighter makes Kyung flinch, sending him skittering several steps away. Seunghoon frowns and mumbles, “Sorry kid.” Then he holds out the pack to Kyung, who doesn’t hesitate to take one and waits impatiently for Seunghoon to light it.

“They got Jiho pretty bad,” Kyung’s stomach drops, a dizzy panic seeming to overpower the usual calm smoking would give him. “He wouldn’t get up, we kept calling him, Kyung. He wouldn’t get up.” 

“They just beat him real bad, ya’know? Like he wasn’t even human, we got there ‘nd it was like they were kicking a dog or something.” Kyung closes his eyes and thinks of how he wants to yell at Seunghoon because he already knows, he knows because he saw it and he heard it and it was so terrifying. 

“I’d never seen Jiho like that before. And he wouldn’t get up. We had to Kyung, we had to take him to the hospital. So, Yukwon did and we couldn’t tell you because we didn’t even know if he’d get up.” Kyung wishes Seunghoon would just get to the point and tell him the conclusion. At this rate, his heart might give out from the stress.

Seunghoon stops walking and drops his cigarette, pressing it into the ground with the toe of his shoe. Kyung halts beside him, looking up slowly now. “You can see him, you know? You tell them your name and they’ll let you see him.” 

“He can’t afford that, he doesn’t have any money to be paying hospital bills,” Kyung says. He doesn’t want to see Jiho anyway. Why would he want to see that bastard? That lying bastard, Kyung thinks bitterly, trying to keep the anger from his voice. He tries his best to sound indifferent, but Seunghoon doesn’t seem convinced. 

Seunghoon sighs and responds lowly, “What’re bills to a dead man?” He shakes his head pityingly and disappears inside the store again, returning to where the other boys wait huddled around a table of half eaten food. Kyung stands there for a moment longer, alone under the glow of neon signs. He presses his face into the palms of his hands and exhales shakily, whispering pleas that Jiho isn’t dead. 

 

At first, Kyung wants to give it at least an entire day before he goes in to the hospital. But he becomes so restless with the knowledge of where Jiho is that he can’t hold out for even a minute. So, the very next morning he has his bag slung over his shoulders and change counted carefully for the bus fare. He counts extra for the way back, tragically hopeful that he might bring Jiho home with him. 

He watches the bus stops carefully, so nervous that he doesn’t even bother taking a seat despite it being a considerably far ride. He shifts from foot to foot, leaning forward to watch the street signs pass by the window in search of his stop. He thanks the bus driver on his way out when the time to get off finally comes. 

He’s so nervous. He can’t keep from shaking as a nurse leads him down a quiet hallway. She asks him if he’s anxious, to which he gives a small nod and a tense, “yes”. She couldn’t even begin to imagine the way Kyung was feeling. 

They get to the room too fast, too soon. He hasn’t even rehearsed what he wants to say enough times. But it’s too late to request going back, even if he desperately wants to bail now. Instead, he grips the strap of his bag so tight that his knuckles turn white and lets the nurse usher him into the room. 

There lays his lover. All the words catch in Kyung’s throat, suddenly stuck behind tears and overwhelming emotion. 

“J-Jiho.”

Kyung has to choke back tears when Jiho turns and his eyes flutter open, face twisted by disorientation for a moment. He sits up immediately upon realizing its Kyung who stand there, a tube at his arm catching in his blanket. 

They both look horrible. Jiho’s hair sticks to his forehead in a grimy mess, tangled and knotted since that night. His face his still left with yet to recede swelling and the faded blue of bruises. Kyung knows he must look as bad, he feels just as bad. 

Kyung can’t stop shaking, even when he’s at the bedside and close enough to touch Jiho. He should be relieved, but for some reason there’s still anger, still bitterness that this is what they’ve come to. 

Jiho watches Kyung with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape. He looks worse up close, exhaustion turning his face subtly different, hollow and a sickly gray. Kyung’s hand lays tenderly over Jiho’s, thumb running up and down there. “You lied to me, Jiho,” Kyung whispers slowly, watching the minute changed in Jiho’s expression, the way his brows furrow. 

“You kept making as if you were working day and night, but then I went to your place because I was looking for you and I was so afraid but Jiho all I found was that you’d been lying.” The words sound accusative, leaving no room for argument, but at the very least he keeps his tone level. “It was like before, when you didn’t have money to eat or drink or to even live and it’s all because you were so busy doing what? Causing more trouble, so that this would happen? Do you know how much it _hurts_?” He’s not sure then if he’s speaking of the physical wounds that have been afflicted on him, or if he’s really referring to the holes Jiho has stamped into his heart 

Jiho doesn’t try to interject, so Kyung keeps going. “That’s all you do, waste time making people hate us more and more as if they don’t hate us enough as it is. Jiho, I thought you were going to die. I thought _I_ was going to die because of _you_.” At that, Jiho flinches, fingers curling in the stark white sheets. 

“You’re not denying it because it’s true, isn’t it? You spent all that time getting into more fights and I just let it happen too, even when you’d show up beat all the time because I wanted so badly to trust you’d make it okay, Jiho. But you can’t do anything right.” 

Jiho stares at their hands, at the uneven white of scar tissue across his own fingers and the pristine, softness of Kyung’s. He speaks then, voice barely audible, “If you’re so miserable, why didn’t you leave?” 

And Kyung can’t stop himself then, all the suffering becoming so violent that it can’t be withheld and because the answer seems so obvious. There’s only one reason as to why he hasn’t left Jiho, why he couldn’t, even with every fiber of his being knowing that he should. He can’t stop himself from raising his voice now.

“Because I love you, you jerk! I love you, I love you. You asshole, I love you so much and I don’t know how to stop,” Kyung yells, pushing Jiho and voice tapering off into something like a sob. Jiho tries to reach out to hold him, but Kyung pulls away. “It’s all your fault, I love you, Jiho. You piece of shit, you ruined my life—” He has to stop himself there in fear that he might break down into tears. 

A heartbeat of silence for the words to soak in. He’s said it aloud now and it feels so much realer now. It fucking _hurts_. The stress of it has been eating him away, and whenever he looks in the mirror there’s someone new watching back. Someone with the yellow fingerprints of bruises left behind and lacerated skin and the drooping black circles around his eyes that linger from nights of never sleeping. Because he can’t sleep, not with all the anxiety, all the heartache. Jiho has taken his youth away. 

Yet, looking at Jiho’s face, at the heart wrenching anguish there, Kyung can’t find the courage to end it even now. Instead he can feel himself fall deeper, the pain ache louder, at the realization that he can’t stop himself from succumbing to this desire. He loves Jiho so much and it is so, so unfair. 

There’s a film of tears across Jiho’s eyes. His lower lip wavers. He stumbles over words and Kyung knows he’s hurt him. 

“Kyung, what do I do?” Kyung shakes his head, chews anxiously on his lip and tries to keep from breaking down. “Kyung, we should really stop.” 

For a moment he can’t even breath. The world seems to crash down in chaotic rush, anger and grief and desperation all swirling, mixing. “You can’t do this, Jiho. You can’t make me feel like this and then just say that. Jiho, _I love you_ and I hate it but I don’t know how not to!” Jiho takes his hand and this time Kyung doesn’t pull away. 

They’ll rot in the misery of it together. It’s a tragedy that no one can feel the sorrow of the way the two of them do. It’s there always, slowly dripping into blood streams and killing lethargically, killing in torment.

“It’s not fair,” Jiho whispers and Kyung could never have predicted those words would ever grip him with so much rage, with so much sheer pain. It twists and writhes in him, a fire that ignites a chorus of agony. 

He lets go of Jiho’s hand and leans against the bed, over Jiho, needing to be held. Jiho’s arms are around him in an instant, face pressed against his neck and a shaky sigh exhaled. 

It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s not fair. Kyung wants to cry and scream, throw a tantrum over how terribly cruel it is. He wants to be angry, he wants them to know he’s suffering, all because it’s not fair. It feels like he’s _dying_.

They pull apart because the unfairness follows them here too. It’s unfair. If someone sees them, they might know that they’re not friends, no, they’re not just two close friends. They’re two boys and they’re in love. They love one another and Kyung is sure it can’t just be some fickle teenage fling, it feels so real, so intense. 

Jiho repeats, “What can I do?”  
“Nothing.” It’s too late.

There’s no going back and Kyung is to blame. 

Kyung goes home alone, sitting at the back of the bus by the window. The extra change in his pocket feels heavy. It’s not until then, when he’s practically alone, that it occurs to him how terrible he’s been. Here he is, a year into dating Jiho, and he’s never thought to tell Jiho that he loves him. And now he has, but the first time he’s ever said it is in parallel to his saying he hates it, hates loving Jiho. The toxicity of it makes Kyung pale with guilt, sick with the knowing that it’s a heartless way to love someone. He worries that Jiho is thinking of it still, that those words must cling to him as hauntingly as they do to Kyung. 

Jiho will be out the next day, something about broken ribs and damage to his lungs, things Kyung doesn’t want to dwell on for too long. 

School becomes a chore. He’s come to notice that his peers have begun to distance from him, often paying him unsettled stares and gossiping whispers when they think his back is turned. No one bothers talking to him and Kyung can’t say he’s particularly bothered by that.

He likes being seated in the back of classes lately. And no one tells him not to, there’s no point in opposing him when he maintains his grades well enough. 

A girl in his calculus class turns around in her desk one day. She has a pretty face, with big owlish eyes lined in black and a narrow nose and neatly angled eyebrows. Straight black hair falls over her one shoulder, over Kyung’s desk. 

“You were gone yesterday,” She says to Kyung, distracting him from his work. He looks up at her, notices the fraction of shock that ripples her expression as she comes face to face with the ugliness that has claimed Kyung’ face since that night in the parking lot. 

He sets his pencil down and answers in monotone, “I was.” She doesn’t seem to take his lack of enthusiasm as rude, or as indication to drop the conversation there, and pushes further, “Where were you?” 

It’s obvious she’s searching for a story, he can tell by the way she leans close and whispers, by the way her eyes skit across his face to drink in the still healing wounds there. So, he gives it to her. “I was visiting my friend in the hospital.” 

She gasps, mouth a perfect circle and eyebrow quirked curiously. _More, more,_ she must be thinking, hungry for more entertainment, for a better story. Kyung keeps going, voice low and indifferent save for the bitterness that stealthily taints his tone, “Got in a fight over some petty stuff, he got beat up pretty bad before some of our other friends could show up to help.” She nods as if she could understand. 

“What kind of petty stuff?”

Kyung thinks for a moment. “My girlfriend. Some guys don’t like that I’m dating her.” It’s not too far from the truth. And lying comes easy now, comes without any repercussions, without guilt. Lying is self-preservation, it’s a way of survival.

“That’s so romantic, it’s like in a movie, fighting for who you love,” She tells him, a small smile curving her lips. Kyung scowls and leans back. Her comment irritates him but he takes a few seconds of silence to calm himself. She doesn’t know any better, he reminds himself, letting the annoyance fade. It’s not romantic, he wants to tell her, it’s unfair. But she can’t know the full of it, of how it’s not about fighting for love, it’s about fighting to exist. In the end, he lets her comment go uncorrected.

Kyung doesn’t see Jiho for the entire week, even when he hears from Jihoon nearly every day that Jiho is out of the hospital. Kyung brushes it off, always telling that he’ll visit him eventually. Jihoon gives him an unconvinced nod, immersing in frivolous talk with Yoon and Mino then. 

He meets Yukwon after school gets out one day, dumping his bag in the trunk of the other boy’s car and taking a cigarette from him as soon as he sits down. He lights it in a hurry, passing the lighter over as Yukwon asks how school has been.

“Good, good. It’s alright,” Kyung babbles in a hurry, bringing the cigarette to his lips and hanging one hand arm out the window. Yukwon tosses the lighter aside and starts the car. 

He’s having lunch with Yukwon before they meet the other boys for a movie, only Kyung hadn’t realized lunch with Yukwon meant lunch with the older boy’s girlfriend too. 

“This is Kyung, he’s like a little brother to me, a real good kid,” Yukwon introduces, and it has Kyung embarrassed right off the bat, as if he weren’t already feeling the situation to be a bit more than awkward. 

“Nice to meet you, Kyung,” she says, giggling and taking Yukwon’s hand. She’s pretty, with short hair and a sweet laugh. The awkwardness leaves naturally once they sit down to eat, a comfortable conversation coming up between the three. She’s very nice, Kyung thinks, noticing how she and Yukwon never let him feel unwanted or out of place. 

At some point Yukwon gets up to get their food, insisting that Kyung and his girlfriend sit and chat. As Yukwon gets up to leave, her gaze follows him. She looks back to Kyung then, and he asks conversationally, “Have you and Yukwon been dating a long time?” She smiles and nods, leaning forward with her chin propped on her hand. She tells him of how they’ve been dating before Yukwon dropped out of high school, she sounds so enamored when retelling their past. Kyung can tell she really loves Yukwon.

U drops her home first, and as the two wave goodbye to one another for a little too long, Kyung thinks Yukwon better not do anything to screw up his relationship with her. She really cares about him, and Kyung thinks she seems like a real nice girl. Yukwon is pretty lucky to have her, Kyung thinks.

Kyung gets out to sit shotgun again. The drive out Kyung doesn’t talk much. He tries to snag another cigarette but Yukwon snatches the pack from him first. “Don’t you think you’re getting excessive with how many of these you smoke in a day?” Kyung doesn’t respond, just slumps back in his seat and looks away. 

He can’t stop thinking about how perfect Yukwon and his girlfriend seem. They are essentially problem free, if only Yukwon would stick to an honest means of living. Then they’d never have to argue or be unhappy. They’d never know suffering like Kyung and Jiho. 

“You should treat her well,” Kyung says out of the blue, piercing the silence. Yukwon glances over briefly before turning his attention back to the rode. 

“Yeah? And you should treat Jiho well. He was my friend first, you know. You stress him out.” Kyung raises an eyebrow, but can’t really find the right to be defensive. It’s a fair concern coming from them both, and Yukwon really has been friends with Jiho far longer than Kyung has. 

“I stress him out?”  
“Yeah, more than a little.” 

Kyung exhales dramatically and looks out the window for a moment. Jiho stresses him out too. At least it’s mutual.

There’s an extended silence again before Kyung prompts softly, “How’re you okay with Jiho and I dating?” 

Yukwon raises his eyebrows and inhales sharp, giving a sarcastic grin. “He’s brought in a whole lot worse, Kyung. A lot worse. You’re just his level and you’ve done alright by us.” Kyung knows what Yukwon means to allude to, and he’s glad Yukwon thinks of himself as drastically better, but that’s not really what he’s getting at. 

“No, I mean, how’re you okay with him being queer?” 

Kyung has thought it before, but he’s never considered voicing the question aloud. But it occasionally reoccurs to him that the boys might still see Kyung and Jiho as a little odd, even if they harbor no ill wishes towards them. And Kyung can’t say he would feel angry with them if they did see it that way, because it’s hard to understand, and to see it so constantly might even make them uncomfortable perhaps. It’s not talked about in society, it’s a taboo topic that they’ve been raised to be apprehensive of. Just the fact that the boys aren’t malicious is a miracle. 

Yukwon thinks for a while, deciding on what he should tell and what he should refrain from sharing. In the end, he settles on being transparent about it. 

“I wasn’t, at first.” He pauses again, wanting to pick the right words, wanting to start at the beginning. “It was before he started living on his own that he told me. But I wasn’t the first to know. He told me when— well, it was us two just sitting on the bleachers after running a couple laps during gym. Everyone was getting back to the locker rooms but we were just sitting.” 

Kyung takes a moment to picture it. Jiho, he imagines as being soft and still unscathed by the world’s coldness, with downy black hair and a round face. Yukwon, similarly young and naive, brown bangs a little too long. They’d have sat together and wouldn’t have to talk for a long time because Jiho was the thoughtful type and Yukwon didn’t need words to diffuse tension either.

“It was quiet for a bit and he looked at me and said something, and then he nearly kissed me. He said he thought I knew, that he hadn’t meant to make me uncomfortable. I wasn’t really mad or anything, just... it was weird. He was really sorry, kept saying so and he was nearly in tears over it but I was... I don’t know? Disgusted, maybe? So, I told him not to talk to me anymore.” 

Kyung frowns and tries not to form any judgements of Yukwon based off it. It’s in the past, he tells himself, still feeling a prick of sympathy for Jiho. He doesn’t say so, though.

“A while went by and I didn’t see him, I thought I hated him over it. But I missed him more than I could ever convince myself I hated him, he was my friend. I guess I thought about it pretty long and it felt real mean to cut him out of my life like that. I found him and told him so and he was alright with it,” Yukwon pauses and looks over at Kyung with a wistful smile, “That’s the thing about Jiho, he’s just a too good guy, he forgave me without a second’s thought. 

Kyung reaches for the pack of cigarettes again and this time Yukwon doesn’t stop him. 

 

There’s not much talk of what had happened that night, as if there is room being given to heal before they delve into reexperiencing the horrors in search of another passageway for revenge. It’s a week of falsely calm meetups before Seunghoon reluctantly broaches the topic. 

“So, what’re we gonna do,” he starts, leaned against the side of his car. They’re waiting around for a race, one of many that Kyung has seen since his first with Jiho last year. “About this,” Seunghoon gestures towards Kyung, in specifics, his face.

Jiho raises an eyebrow, by which is a bandage. Even Seunghoon appears annoyed by Jiho’s purposeful ignorance, which would satisfy Kyung if it hadn’t been that Seunghoon expresses that by roughly yanking Kyung by the arm as he gets up. 

“Hey-” Kyung squeaks in protest, being dragged along and turned harshly. He tries to pull away but Seunghoon’s grip is scarily tight on his arm and all Kyung can do is helplessly flounder. Seunghoon ignores it and grabs the front of Kyung’s shirt, tearing the first several buttons open as Kyung again tries to voice protest. 

Jiho starts towards them, alarmed threats on the tip of his tongue as Seunghoon takes the back of Kyung’s collar and yanks it down to expose his back and drawing the sleeves off from his shoulders. 

Kyung tries again, resisting desperately and hearing Yukwon and Taeil protesting at how Seunghoon handles Kyung. 

“You did this to him, they've branded him,” Seunghoon hisses, finally releasing Kyung. Hurriedly Kyung pulls himself together, fumbling as he scrambles to hide the still repairing burns across his shoulder. Too late, everyone has seen, but he wants to rid himself of the watching eyes anyway. 

Kyung shiftily watches Jiho from where he’s moved aside in fear of being touched again. Everyone’s attention is fixed on the two who once again find themselves as opposing forces, like dogs in a cage fight. Jiho starts first, defensive right off the bat, “No I didn’t, you deranged bastard.” Kyung winces at that, the anger in his voice cold and malicious and becoming too frequent in its appearances. 

Seunghoon thinks nothing of it, rolling his eyes and giving a sarcastic snort. “Yeah you fucking did. You go get your ass killed and that's fine but leave the poor kid out of it.” The circle of onlookers, of both Jiho’s boys and Seunghoon’s, feed into the tension, watching with a subtle knowingness of what comes when the civil tone snaps. Bloodthirsty without knowing it. 

“You pretending to forget how you knowingly sent him through shit just as dangerous?” Kyung holds his breath, thinking back to the moment he had driven a knife clean through a man’s hand, and he realizes guilt stains himself too. The accusations could just as fairly be pointed towards him, but they are not, only Seunghoon faces them.

Seunghoon can’t find a response quick enough before Jiho takes it further, maybe too far, “Actually, you were treating him like complete shit before this, what he do to change your mind so much that you got him really being your bitch?” 

For a brief second everyone is speechless. Kyung looks up then, glaring sharp at Jiho. This time he’s the one to cut Seunghoon off, interrupting them and stepping into the space between them. Without any thought and controlled entirely by rage in that moment, he grabs Jiho by one arm, rabid with the anger, “You fucking asshole, how _dare_ you talk about me like that?” 

The sharp tension fizzles and dies immediately, a quiet concern overcoming the situation and Taeil’ hands coming to pull Kyung away from Jiho. Seunghoon steps away voluntarily, for once keeping his clever commentary to himself as the tension redirects and reinstates itself between Kyung and Jiho. 

Jiho struggles to find words, face draining of color and tongue suddenly useless in forming words. The regret in saying that is clear in his face, but Kyung can’t subdue his anger enough to let it go. 

Taeil tugs Kyung away from Jiho, and he reluctantly listens, taking several steps away and looking at the ground in hopes to let himself calm down.

“Fuck, Kyung, I didn’t mean it, I was angry. Kyung, I didn’t mean it.” Kyung hears it but decides not to say anything more, aware of his own incapability to control his words now. 

Kyung blows off the race to go home, and luckily enough, no one follows him. That night he slides his window open fully even though it’s cold. He sits around trying and failing to get work done before he ends up playing one of Jiho’s tapes left behind long ago and lying in bed with the glow of the table light illuminating his face.

He doesn’t sleep, he’s expecting someone. And sure enough Jiho does show up. 

“I’m sorry.”  
“I know.”

They cram into his bed like they always have. It feels as if Jiho is taller now, and maybe he really is, but regardless, it’s only another fickle detail that Kyung has noticed to be different from when they first met. 

They don’t talk as much as they usually do. Kyung is tired. He accidently elbows Jiho in the chest, who yelps in pain. Kyung mumbles an apology, rubbing first soothingly at Jiho’s chest, then hand placed at his neck, then cupping his cheek. So much has changed, Kyung thinks, feeling a twinge of remorse. How unfortunate that he still loves Jiho.

Jiho watches the ceiling for some time, then looks back at Kyung. For a brief moment in between, he appears fixated on something behind Kyung. 

“That a pack of cigarettes?” Kyung freezes, realizes without having to turn back, that he’s left the little box on his nightstand. 

“Yeah, but don’t worry about it,” Kyung answers quietly, hoping they’ll move on from the topic quickly. 

Jiho frowns. “You shouldn’t smoke, it’s bad for you.” Secretly it worries Jiho that his concerns have come to life, that Kyung is not the perfect picture of purity that he had met him as. Surely, he is changing, becoming someone new and adult and with vices just as the rest of them. At the root of it all, Jiho knows he is to bear the blame. 

“It’s my choice,” Kyung concludes, drawing away from his boyfriend. Jiho shifts away too, lying on his back and a leg hanging off the bed. He stares at the ceiling and Kyung watches his profile. It’s a miserable thing to be in love.

 

Afterall, they don’t learn their lesson. Seunghoon and Jiho talk some more, without Kyung to interfere, and settle for the only thing they know how to do: fight fire with fire. Kyung finds that he’s lost the vigor, the obstinacy and resolve, to meddle with them. Stupid, he calls them silently, watching comfortably from their worn couch with his legs thrown across Mino’s lap and back leaned against Jaehyo. Stupid, stupid, stupid, the words repeat as he watches them talk. 

Jiho doesn’t eat much, Kyung can tell. His face has lost the roundness, the cute chubbiness replaced by harsher angles and a more narrow, cattish look. The running about has done nothing to build his frame in the way that Seunghoon has toned muscle, rather he’s become lean and slim. 

The anger never subsides. Inwardly Kyung remains bitter, even when they’ve paused from walking to Jiho’s car and he’s clinging to Jiho’s shoulders as he’s briefly pressed against the wall for a biting kiss. Even when Kyung is lying on top of Jiho on the couch talking about anything and everything, the lingering irritation remains. Still, he’s careful not to put much weight on Jiho’s chest, there are still healing wounds there. 

Kyung and Jiho go through a lot of painkillers. They all do, but Jiho hangs on to them longest. The collection of empty bottles seem to become meal replacements; he could starve but he’d always have money to wash away the pain of having been kicked senseless for the nth time that week. Kyung skips class to drop in when Jiho is unsuspecting and empties Jiho’s current bottle of medications into the sink. Then he goes out to buy groceries, a fondness creeping up on his unsuspecting self as he ends up picking up their favorite ice creams, as if he were never mad at Jiho and as if they’ll have time to eat them.

His grades begin to drop in late November and his parents learn to despise him. They try to keep him home but they can’t. They take his keys and he comes home through a window left ajar, they cut off all money and he steals what he can’t get, they threaten him and he ignores. He becomes unbearable, he becomes a pest in their own home. 

Kyung distances from Seunghoon. He can feel himself succumbing to the toxicity of where they stand, he knows he’s changed. But all he can do is deny it and facing Seunghoon would force him to come face to face with the truth. Seunghoon wouldn’t hesitate to mention it, to force Kyung to see what they’ve come to. 

They call him one night, inviting him for drinks. Kyung anxiously peers over his shoulder, hoping his parents don’t see him on the phone. He hates drinking but goes anyway. 

Kyung scans the room for Jiho, or any of the other boys, really. He hates meeting them here, it never gets any better seeking Jiho out among senseless drunks with a collective lack of understanding about personal space. When he does spot Jiho, his mood turns only sourer.

Jiho is sat at a booth, Taeil, Jaehyo and Mino across him. What's infuriating is Yoon settled besides Jiho, pressed up a little too close, playing up the cute angle again. He's looking up at Jiho with big eyes and full pouty lips, saying something that Kyung is sure is spoken in the whining innocent tone he tends to take when desperate for attention. Jiho looks fully preoccupied in whatever is being said by the other boy. Kyung is headed over before he's even thought of what to say or how to approach this. 

The older boy turns and sees Kyung, is about to say something, but Kyung isn’t really in the mood for listening. He just grabs at Jiho’s collar with one hand, it’s a soft cotton tee with some red graphic on the front that’s comfortable to bunch up and hold firmly in his one fist, and with the other hand yanks Jiho by the cheek to force him into facing away from Yoon. Jiho is about to utter something, the haughty self-confidence and hubris draining from his stature so his shoulders sag and he almost shrinks back in something— in what? Fear? Kyung wishes he could take a moment to drink in the expression fully, the speechless half open mouth and the submissive posture and the malleable heart that is so irreversibly in Kyung’s hands. 

But Kyung isn’t having it. He pulls Jiho up just slightly and crashes their lips together messily and almost painfully. He feels Jiho pull away under him, hand coming up to his chest to deny it. The refusal goes ignored, Kyung lets go of the shirt collar to cup Jiho’s face and hold him there, feels Jiho slowly relent to the force but not fully reciprocate. When he pulls back, Jiho doesn’t say anything, just stares with a bewildered expression, eyes a little glassy. Kyung almost feels sorry, but then the space that has welcomed itself between Yoon and Jiho has him feeling too triumphant to have any remorse. 

Kyung slides into the vacant spot beside Jiho and grins smugly as he leans towards his boyfriend to wipe at the spit at the corner of his puffy lips. The others look caught between disgusted and legitimately concerned, and Yoon has gone completely mute with his gaze averted. The silence is judgmental, but Kyung is the only one to miss that. 

No one says anything, they’re shocked into an uneasy silence, one that is hard to move on from. It’s a blessing when Seunghoon appears at the table, chains and keys hanging from his belt chiming lowly. 

He’s intuitive and observant, and the way his eyes narrow into a suspicious squint has Kyung aware that he knows something is up. With enough time having passed, and Seunghoon’s oppressive stare on him now, guilt pricks at him. It occurs to him now that that had been scarily out of character, that he had taken pleasure in Jiho’s pain, something he would have thought unimaginable.

Thankfully, Seunghoon doesn’t address it there in front of the others and jumps into other business.

Kyung knows envy is the last thing they need in their relationship, but he can’t help the growing sourness that inserts itself at times most unsuitable. He’s become irritable and cruel and even though he’s aware of it, he can’t stop himself.

They talk about things that Kyung doesn’t focus on much, and from the looks of it, neither does Jiho. Jiho looks out of it for the rest of the night, sitting mute beside Kyung and offering no input to whatever’s being discussed. In fact, he doesn’t so much as react to anything. Kyung tries to tell himself it’s nothing, it’s not a big deal, but for some reason he feels queasy with guilt anyway. 

At some point Jiho goes home without telling Kyung. Kyung asks Taeil where he’s gone, to which he responds slowly, “Didn’t he tell you? He went home, said he’s got work early tomorrow.”

 

Kyung swings his legs absentmindedly, listening to the quiet noises of Seunghoon cooking in the kitchen. When he comes back he brings tea with him, setting it delicately at the table. Kyung watches steam rise from the surfaces. He’d been asked to come over only a day after that night they’d been out drinking. Kyung knows why and is quick in finding ways to divert any blame. 

“I don’t want to be a part of this,” Kyung says as Seunghoon sits down. The older man watches with raised eyebrows, looking less like a source of comfort than he has in the past and more like a critic now.

“Sure you do,” he answers calmly, watching Kyung with an intent stare that burns. “You can't keep pretending you don’t want to be a part of this. You’re just like the rest of us.” Kyung shakes his head softly, not wanting to hear where Seunghoon’s reasoning heads. Seunghoon’s unwavering gaze makes Kyung shrink away. If he had ever for a moment replaced the notion of Seunghoon with the familiarity of a friend, he has now been reminded of who this really is. At the end of the day, there are reasons why Seunghoon is who he is with the power that he has, and that is permanently tied to his persona.

“You can't stand to let Jiho go this alone, in case he creates something without you,” He continues, tone unchanged. “I honestly wouldn’t believe it if you told me you haven’t noticed your own centralization in their group.” Kyung cautiously takes his cup of tea and stares into the translucent liquid as a method to reasonably break away from the intimidating stare Seunghoon has fixed on him. 

From the first day Kyung had earned some type of invincibility among them. The way the boys flock around him and protect him while Jiho desperately plays knight in shining armor.

He hears Seunghoon snort but doesn’t look up. “I saw what you did to Jiho,” Seunghoon suddenly says, finally drawing Kyung’s attention again. His hands shake slightly, ripples forming in the surface of the drink but refraining from spilling over the ends. He watches carefully as Seunghoon’s expression shift subtly when he speaks, “Do you even love Jiho anymore? Or is it the lifestyle that’s got you hooked?” Kyung sets down the cup in fear that his trembling hands will betray him in holding the cup stable. 

Seunghoon sighs heavily and sets his cup down too, leaning back against the couch. “Jiho has changed but so have you.” Even the brief silences between Seunghoon’s words feel long and heavy, weighing down on Kyung as the words sink in. He’s uncertain of how to feel about Seunghoon’s words. 

“Kyung, you should seriously decide how you want things to go.” The judgmental glare has shifted into something new, a more neutral expression. Kyung wishes Seunghoon were easier to read, but at least in moments like these he is reminded that Seunghoon is not his friend. Seunghoon is at most, a mentor, but having a mentor in this business is a disgrace to who Kyung had wanted to be in his previous life, before Jiho. In Kyung’s ideal world, he’d never have met Seunghoon. In a world ideal in a more complete sense, he would have met Seunghoon in another setting, maybe as an intimidating but equally as helpful upperclassmen as he shifted into the college life he had always predicted for himself. 

“Maybe you should just dump Jiho, go back to living safe.” 

Kyung opens his mouth to protest, but Seunghoon doesn’t give him the chance. “Jiho and them, they have nowhere to go back to. But you don’t need this. They hurt you real bad last time, what if they get you worse next time?” Kyung can’t tell if this is genuine concern or an accusation of disloyalty.

“And you guys don’t think the same could happen to you?”  
“We get by alright, we get by fine.”

Kyung sets the cup down, glaring incredulously at the older man. _Stupid_ , he thinks in frustration. It feels impossible to convey the very fragile nature of life to them, to explain that this is no longer a game of revenge, but a very good way to die. In the end, he doesn’t try to reiterate that sentiment, and goes home with the guilt of what he’s done to Jiho pecking at his conscience. 

They were once coffee dates and conversations shared innocently under pillow forts and soft sheets. Then they became hands held while running away and kisses with the distant metallic ghost of blood. Nothing feels the same anymore. 

Kyung hates school. Jiho comes get him after one day, suggesting ice cream. Jiho really likes ice cream and Kyung does too but not the way Jiho does and certainly not in the way he likes Jiho. There’s not a single thing in the world that could compare to the emotions Kyung feels for Jiho. 

Jiho rolls the window down and Kyung leans through to kiss Jiho, this time purposefully soft, offering the apology that Kyung is too cowardly to voice. And Jiho takes it, doesn’t seek the words that should be in its place. Maybe Yukwon was right, Jiho really was too good a guy. Deep down, Jiho is still a good kid with a soft heart and plenty of love to give and a tender spot for his friends and art and all things beautiful. 

Kyung misses when Jiho was only that, only the kind-hearted boy with looks rougher than who he really was, the boy who read poetry and sometimes cried watching movies and got excited over new songs from obscure bands that Kyung didn’t care about until Jiho started talking about them and oh, Jiho would make them sound so exciting and important even when they weren’t. Kyung misses that. 

They don’t talk a whole lot lately. Kyung likens it to the awkward silence that falls between strangers or acquaintances who aren’t accustomed to time alone. It’s not something couples should share, definitely not two people who’ve been dating an entire year, if not more. 

They see Yukwon so Jiho slows the car, pulling up by the sidewalk to greet him with a lopsided grin, albeit tense. Jiho rolls the windows down and Kyung leans back so that Yukwon can see them both. Yukwon had been smoking, but pauses from it to speak with them, giving a relaxed smile. 

"Where you two headed?"  
"Ice cream, wanna come?" Kyung offers in response.  
"Nah, gonna go see my girl." 

Jiho shrugs and Kyung can't be bothered to push it either. He leans out the window and gestures with his palm facing up for the cigarette between Yukwon's fingers. Wordlessly Yukwon passes it over, and Kyung takes a long drag. Even with his back turned to Jiho, he's sure the other man is practically burning inside with bitterness. As if only Jiho has the right teach him bad habits. 

Kyung pauses with the cigarette held carefully between delicate fingers, blowing a mouthful of smoke from between his lips and tilting his head thoughtfully. "Tell her we say hi," he tells, buying time to bring the cigarette back to his lips. Yukwon nods, catching on to Kyung' motive for saying so and rolling his eyes. 

"Leave it, we should go," Jiho's voice demands from behind him. Kyung reluctantly hands the cigarette back to Yukwon and leans back, reprimanding Jiho with a sharp glare.

"Right, I'll see you two 'round"  
"Yeah, yeah. Be good," Jiho answers distractedly, attention returning to driving. 

For a while they drive without saying anything. Kyung knows Jiho is fuming, but he won't speak up about it unprovoked. The miserable thoughts keep simmering. 

At a red-light Kyung turns to Jiho and sets a hand on his thigh. "Kiss me." 

"No, you were just smoking."  
"So?"  
"Tastes bad"

Kyung doesn't move his hand. The light turns green and Jiho keeps pretending that getting to where their supposed to be going is so important. 

Kyung watches Jiho's profile as he drives, notes how he refuses to look back. A while goes by too tense, then Kyung speaks, "You can't tell me what to do."

Jiho doesn't look at him still. He wants Jiho to look at him so badly. "I'll keep smoking if I want to."

He doesn't want to smoke. It's dangerous for his health and it's becoming a bad habit that he's afraid he can't kick. 

Jiho looks like he might be troubled, but Kyung can't tell when he won't turn his face. The older boy keeps watching ahead, even when he defends, "I didn't tell you you can't. Do what you want." 

That's not the answer Kyung was looking for. He prompts again, "You want to tell me to stop." He wants to stop too.

"It's bad for you," Jiho concedes, though he doesn't sound very convicted to the argument either way. Things aren't going the way Kyung had predicted. He wants Jiho to turn angry, to show some type of passion. But he only seems tired. 

Kyung isn't sure of what to say in response to that anyway. He pulls his hand away and looks out the window. It seems like the end of the conversation, but then Jiho speaks again.

"Maybe it's better if we do break up."

Kyung looks back to Jiho so fast he actually feels everything spin. Jiho stops the car, and Kyung just realizes that they're outside the store. 

"Don't say that." Why does everyone say that lately?

His heart feels suspended dangerously high, pulse quickening and drumming at his ears as the adrenaline rises. His head hurts from trying not to panic. Jiho doesn't give anything away, he keeps looking tired. 

"Take it back," Kyung demands, staring at Jiho even when the tears start to well at the corners of his eyes.

Jiho looks at him finally and Kyung's heart twists painfully. It's as if the bitterness were maggots writhing among his innards, decomposing everything they touch fiber by fiber. He can't stop shaking when Jiho's hands gingerly cup his face, thumb swiping at tears. 

Jiho's voice softens now, "I didn't mean it." He sounds desperate to convince. 

Kyung tries to pull away, but he's always gravitated to Jiho's hold, and can't be bothered to break away when Jiho's fingers curl at the base of his neck to keep him near. 

"Then why'd you say it?" Kyung sniffs and wills himself to quit his crying. 

Jiho falters as if he isn't quite sure why he said it either. Finally, he utters, "I was mad." 

Kyung wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand and pushes Jiho away. "I made you mad?" He watches Jiho's hopefully. 

"I mean—well, yeah," Jiho admits. 

Kyung' expression changes minutely, corners of his lips turned in the slightest of smiles. He takes a deep breath and leans close again. "What're we gonna do?"

Jiho frowns, eyebrows furrowed in uncertainty. "I don't know," the older boy confesses. Kyung only nods, because he doesn't know either. Maybe they'll do nothing.

They don’t even get ice cream, instead they sit and wallow in their misery together. At least Jiho holds Kyung’s hand. It’s not so bad if they don’t have to go it alone. 

If Kyung hadn’t loved Jiho, would things be any different? He wonders if the other boys suffer too, sometimes, because of Jiho. Jiho is his friend, and friends are loved too. Jiho could easily be a burden to them all.

Kyung turns to Jiho and asks, “What if I hadn’t been like you?” The sky looks orange when the sun sets. How long have they sat in silence together? It could be lifetimes and Kyung wouldn’t know any better. Time feels nonexistent when he’s with Jiho.

Jiho looks to him and raises an eyebrow. Kyung clarifies, “What if I hadn’t ever fallen in love with you? Maybe I’d have had a girlfriend…” When Kyung trails off Jiho tries to speak a moment after, but another thought occurs to Kyung first, “Maybe I’d have done normal things then, like going to high school dances with her and watching movies that weren’t practically empty, unless we wanted privacy I guess, to‒” 

“Don’t describe it, Kyung,” Jiho whines. 

Kyung scoffs, stopping then, giving way for Jiho to speak now. “I think I’d be okay with it, really. As long as we could still be friends.” 

For some reason that makes Kyung almost sad. Nonetheless, he agrees earnestly, “Me too, Jiho. I’d want you as a friend no matter what. In our next lives too, I’d want us to be together.” He doesn’t know why he says that, why he’s clinging to such stupid hopes. Next lives, second chances, who is to say those are guaranteed? Has his desperation climbed dangerously far too, so that it fabricates this vain hopefulness? 

Jiho is quiet for a moment. Kyung wishes he hadn’t said it. Almost inaudibly Jiho whispers, “I don’t think there’s anything after this.” 

Sorrowfully Kyung nods in mutual understanding, not looking at his boyfriend now. There’s nothing more.

Things are utterly horrible. As it turns out, it is not only he and Jiho who are affected by it. They crowd around the phone at Jihoon's house one day to listen in on a call between Jiho and Minhyuk. They don't have enough time to pass the phone around, so Jiho holds it out and lets them all shout an incoherent chorus of greetings. After, Kyung feels worse than he had before hearing from Minhyuk. He thinks he's the only one who feels that way until later when he's overlooking the city with Yukwon at their parking lot. It's complete shit, Yukwon says, putting out a cigarette on the cement barriers of the lot. Kyung agrees. 

There's a disgusting, grimy feel that clings to practically everything these days. Kyung can't shake the foul uncleanliness that comes with most things lately. If everything is equal in its impurity, then what significance do decisions have? Absolutely none. Kyung thinks of that and skips out on his mother's birthday dinner in favor of making out with Jiho in his car. _It doesn't matter_ , Kyung repeats to himself as if it were a holy mantra. 

He's tired of trying to stop everyone. He's tired of the guilt that comes with it. He's a hypocrite if he tells them to stop but if he does not, then he is only furthering their records as undiscovered criminals. More importantly, he's adding coins to the scale, and soon it will tip. He's letting them self-destruct.

"Stop smoking," Jiho demands bluntly from where he sits leaned against the headboard of his bed. Kyung looks up. A wispy ribbon of smoke dances in a halo above Kyung's head. He looks back down and brings his free hand to Jiho's leg. "Okay," He mumbles. Jiho nearly screams when Kyung grinds the end of the cigarette into his bare thigh. He kicks but Kyung doesn't let go, fingers curling tighter around his leg to force him in place. 

The older boy grips his leg in agony. Kyung stares indifferently at the round, burned circle of skin. He looks at Jiho to see how stray hairs fall in his face, framing it prettily. And the look on his face is the summation of betrayal and shock, his eyes wide and glassy with fear and pain both. 

"Now we match," Kyung says in monotone. He flicks the cigarette away, not looking where it lands on the carpet. He knows he’s changed, he knows Seunghoon was right. 

His shoes are ruined too. They're scuffed. There are four drops of blood on the toe of the left shoe. The blood can be wiped away easily. And many times, things can heal and grow anew; blood is replaced, recreated, reintroduced, easily. But somethings aren’t as easy. The burns across his shoulder are forever. The way he feels must be forever too. 

Jiho pulls away from Kyung, drawing his legs towards himself and sitting with his knees bent now. His shorts ride further up his leg. Kyung reaches out to touch, fingers just barely grazing his thigh again before Jiho swats his hand away and somehow manages to recede even further away. Kyung looks at Jiho’s face, unsettled at his own cruelty when he finds Jiho still looking afraid. 

Kyung watches Jiho ghost fingers around where the burn is, hands visibly shaking. For a moment Kyung thinks he’ll be angry, that he’ll bounce back from the shock and begin an accusative grab for Kyung’s conscience. But Jiho doesn’t lift his head again, and Kyung can’t tell what he’s doing, not with his bangs obscuring his face. But then there’s the brief glimmer of a tear and a soft, shaky breath that follows. 

The older boy’s voice comes quietly, timid and raw with emotion, “Why’re you hurting me?” 

Shamefully Kyung looks away. But he can’t evade the repeating voice of Jiho in his mind, the broken voice and ruined trust. And even he himself doesn’t know why he’s done this, why he can’t stop hurting Jiho when he loves Jiho so much. 

“Jiho, I’m sorry, I was annoyed. I’m sorry.” Jiho doesn’t respond. He tries again, voice giving away his desperation, “I’m sorry.” 

Fractionally, Jiho looks up. A flicker of hope ignites in Kyung, a chance to preserve their relationship, he thinks. 

“Kyungie…” Jiho trails off and it sounds like he hadn’t had anything to say at all. Kyung reiterates, “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry.” 

A pause, and then a meek response. “It’s okay, Kyungie.” 

Yukwon was right, Kyung thinks. Jiho really was too good a guy. 

It troubles Kyung that he’s let himself become so sadistic, vicious. But he can’t be brought to face the truth, doesn’t want to have to return to the root of it, because that would mean accepting blame where it is due. He’d rather blame Jiho, infinitely painting Jiho’s decisions as pressure for him to become like this. Ignoring the issue and brooding over it privately only lasts so long. He snaps at his sister only a few days after having hurt Jiho, and that pushes him to accept that things are becoming out of hand. 

There’s only one place Kyung goes to for help.

Even if they look past their differences, Kyung can’t be sure that even then Seunghoon would fully understand. Maybe he’s too many years older, or maybe Kyung is too many younger to want to listen to what Seunghoon has to say. Kyung isn’t so sure, but he does know that he has no one else to approach for help. In some ways, the boys will never understand Kyung in the way someone like Seunghoon will. They can sympathize and they really do care for Kyung, but they won’t ever know how it really feels like Seunghoon does. And it’s nice having someone who understands, even if it is someone as cold as Seunghoon.

“Haven’t seen you in a while,” Seunghoon flatly states in substitute of a greeting when he answers the door. Kyung averts eye contact.

Jinwoo is out, Seunghoon says he has classes. So, it’s just the two of them talking like they often do, this time without Jinwoo’s comments being quipped in between their exchanges.

“How’s your back?”  
It’s been nearly a month since then.  
“Okay, the worst of it is over.”  
That might be a bit bold of him to claim.

“Right, good. And how’s your boyfriend?” Kyung cringes. Right to the point. “That’s what you want to talk about, isn’t it?” 

Kyung takes a deep breath, wants to continue with this, but the courage escapes him. He had rehearsed it all, but now the words don’t come. 

“We’re fine, I didn’t want to talk about him, but we can…” Kyung says instead, but Seunghoon must know the truth, because he doesn’t relent. 

“Fine? If you scaring the shit out of him is fine, then you’re right.”  
“Is it that obvious?”

Seunghoon raises his eyebrows and inhales sharp, surprised by Kyung’s daftness. Of all the boys, Kyung had always seemed the least likely to lose sight of his values.

“Kyung, I saw you when we were out drinking that night. I doubt anything’s changed.” It’s true and Kyung hates it. He hates how Seunghoon understands so well, how he seems to know so much more than he. 

Kyung frowns, leaning back against the couch and staring at the ceiling. Looking at Seunghoon directly is always hard, it’s too critical a gaze to return for long. “Things haven’t been the same since that night. Stuff went too far.” 

Irritation flickers across Seunghoon’s expression. His patience is being worn thin. “If things went too far, then why are you still here? You’ve fallen into the habit of playing victim.” Kyung suddenly looks back at Seunghoon, caught off guard. He hadn’t anticipated being exposed so directly. An argument and immediate denial are on the tip of his tongue, but Seunghoon has more to say that prevents Kyung from starting his defense. 

“Look, kid, I know you’re afraid and you’re angry with your boyfriend. But if it’s not working out, just break up with him. This isn’t right. He’s made mistakes but he’s never meant to hurt you.” 

For a moment there’s a reappearance of that sincerity Kyung rarely sees in Seunghoon, and it extinguishes any denial Kyung had been fostering. He feels guilt again, thinking back to all that Seunghoon has done for him, and how he always fails the older man despite all the opportunities to prove himself. 

Seunghoon has a class to go to, too, so Kyung ends up wandering around for a while before deciding he’d rather not go home at all today. He drops by Jaehyo’s place, pleased to find that the other boy is free for the day and doesn’t mind Kyung staying over. 

Jaehyo doesn’t push Kyung to explain why he’s not going home, and Kyung is thankful for that. He lies on the floor watching the wind blow at trees on the other side of the windows while Jaehyo flips through a magazine. 

“Hey, Jaehyo, you’ve known Jiho pretty long, right?” So, Jaehyo tells Kyung about Jiho. Kyung finds that he loves hearing about Jiho. Somehow, he falls in love with the other boy more and more when he hears of him like this, all his best qualities highlighted by his friends who love him so dearly. 

At the end of some long ramble about Jiho, Jaehyo sighs. “But yeah, Jiho has had it rough. He doesn’t deserve that but he’s had it real rough.” 

Kyung sits up. “How?”

Jaehyo thinks for a moment, looking up as if trying to recall exactly what makes up the list of things Jiho has endured. Eventually he starts with an explanation instead of an answer, “Well, I suppose technically it’s his own doing that stuff turns out the way it does. He’s not the best with decisions, like his ex-boyfriend was a complete ass, he’s even why Jiho got kicked out. But it’s not really Jiho’s fault, he’s never had any real support growing up.”

Kyung frowns and suggests, “What about you guys?” They all seem like a family enough. 

At that Jaehyo shakes his head and tuts. He seems to disagree and Kyung can’t really see why. He’s always found the acceptance from the boys far more valuable than anything he’s ever had.

“A bunch of boys couldn’t ever make up the role of a mother.” Those few words are enough. Kyung figures that it makes plenty sense. 

“But hey, you’re an alright choice that he made,” Jaehyo offers with a soft smile that makes guilt twist in Kyung’s gut. He’s not so sure anymore. 

_He smiles at first, plays along. This is what he wants, he has to, doesn’t he? Because he’s gay and he likes boys, even if this feels a little rushed and a bit too soon, he has to be okay with it. And he doesn’t want to seem so childish, so immature, because that might mean he’ll be left, abandoned. And anyway, if he doesn’t like this, is he really queer? That wouldn’t make sense, even his boyfriend says so._

_Kissing is easy, and being touched is okay. But this is different, a little too much. The smile drops from his lips when he’s pushed off his boyfriend’s lap and instead pinned down, face against pillow. He whines, tries to push himself up and get away, but he can’t, not with how his wrists are gripped so tight. He hadn’t fully realized how easily he could be overpowered, how his lover is not a boy like him, but a man. He tries to beg, and he fails to sound mature about it this once, “Let me go, please, I change my mind, let go.” The grip around his wrists doesn’t relent and the response is a cold taunt, “I thought you were mature, thought you said you knew what you wanted.”_

_He can’t protest then, he’s too afraid of being not enough. And he knows he should like this, but then why doesn’t he? He has to keep going, let it happen, and it’ll get better, he’s sure. It’s all he can tell himself to keep from letting the discomfort get to him. He doesn’t like the way his boyfriend’s hand pushes at his neck and forces his face against the bed. He doesn’t like any of it. It hurts. He hopes his boyfriend doesn’t catch him crying later, wiping pathetically at tears that don’t seem to stop._

_At first, he’s passive. He knows his family would be upset if they knew, but he’s sure it can be kept a well contained secret. They don’t have to know, and what they don’t know won’t hurt them. He’s naive and too hopeful, trying to balance two separate lives at once. He loves his family, he’s sure they don’t intend to be so hurtful when they say mean things sometimes, even if those things are unknowingly about him. He’s sure they just don’t understand, that they could if he tried to tell them. But it’s easiest just not to tell._

_His boyfriend makes him feel important. Makes him feel more adult. When his boyfriend touches him, even when it’s with too much force and unwarranted, it makes him feel wanted. So, he lets it happen and worries about hiding bruises and bites later._

_Gradually he learns it’s a hard secret to keep. His boyfriend wants so much of his time that he stops seeing his friends, really. And when they ask why, he can’t tell them the truth. He wishes he could, sometimes he’s so afraid and so, so confused._

_“Stop crying,” His boyfriend snaps, a hand fisted in his hair. He’s on his knees, wishing he hadn’t worn shorts because now the bruises will show for sure. Things weren’t always like this._

_He remembers it being easy at first. It was soft and delicate. He had only ever dated one other boy before, but that had ended as quietly as it had started. And then he met this man who was older than him and that made him feel special, like he was worthy of something that no one else was._

_It was good at first, tender. Or at least it seemed that way, but if he were to think back on it now, there was always the lingering feeling of being an object to be owned, something to be broken and turned submissive. But he was young, didn’t know better._

_Then things changed and he wasn’t so sure anymore._

_In the spring when it was turning warm out, his mother had sent him out of the house with his older brother, scolding his habits of reading as being bad for his eyes, saying he needed some sunlight in his life. So, the two sat beside one another on the swing set, kicking idly at the air and talking. His brother talks about a girl in his chemistry class, tells about how she’s not the same as everyone else._

_“She’s odd, a bit weird.”_

_There’s a long silence, he finds himself holding his breath for a moment, then finds the confidence to ask, “Is it okay to be different?”_

_Another silence follows._

_“Yeah, I guess so. It’s alright.”_

_Before he knew it, he’s being pressured into things he doesn’t really want. And maybe at the very least he was left with salvageable sanity at the end of it, with enough room to lie his way into safety. But it escalates, gets to be more and more demanding._

_“Pictures?” He echoes, disbelief and confusion clouding his mind.  
“Yeah, you can do that right?”_

_He wants to say no, because it doesn’t feel right. It seems too permanent, too risky, something he’d never willingly think of doing. But then his boyfriend gets to talking of how he loves his body, how he’s so perfect, pale and soft and all his. It makes him feel good just for a brief moment, enough to get him to agree, albeit reluctantly. He regrets it immediately after._

_It all catches up with him eventually. He’s caught kissing his boyfriend outside school by a classmate, one whose parents know his parents too. He goes home feeling nervous about it, hands trembling at the dread of facing his parents. When he gets home, they treat him normally. They don’t know._

_It’s the following evening that his parents are going for a dinner with some other families from the neighborhood. He stays in his room, doing homework and enjoying the unusually quiet, uneventfulness of that night._

_When they come home, it’s gotten quite late. They enter his room without warning and they’re shouting and he’s afraid. His father hits him and his mother cries and it all happens so fast he can’t get a word in. They talk about how disappointed they are, how they didn’t raise him just for him to turn out to be a homosexual, how it’s disgusting and a disgrace to their entire family. And then they tell him to leave, to never come back, because they’re ashamed to have him for a son, revolted that at the thought they might ever have to look at him again._

_He goes to a payphone and calls his boyfriend seventeen times. He waits half an hour and then calls another four times._

_It’s scary out at night alone and he’s panicking now, not sure where to go, what to do. He calls Yukwon in desperation, sobbing as soon as his friend picks up._

 

Kyung goes to see Jiho the following day, nervous even though he knows Jiho is too forgiving to hold any grudges. He has the keys but decides to knock and wait anyway. It hurts that Jiho doesn’t look as happy as he once would have to see Kyung. 

They sit and talk for a while, although it’s tense and awkward. Too much as come up between them, they’ve hurt one another too much. 

Finally, Kyung has the courage to ask, “Is your leg okay?” Jiho frowns and shifts uncomfortably, making Kyung fear that he might close off again. 

But instead,

“Yeah, Kyungie. It’s alright.” 

And Kyung thinks then that they’ll be alright, that he can fix their relationship piece by piece. But regrowth takes time, could take lifetimes, and as they had already established: there isn’t anything after this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been kinda busy lately so i haven't replied to comments but i appreciate all of them so much and they honestly encourage me to keep going!! So, thank you, and I hope you're all doing well~


	15. Long Way Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The burn across Kyung’s back becomes ugly lumps of white scar tissue, deeming him alien forever. Thoughts conflict and tangle in his mind, taking drastic leaps from hating Jiho with a dangerously hot fury and then to loving him with a wretched misery that rots his skin._

Why might he love Jiho? 

It feels like an entire forever has passed in that they’ve known one another. Kyung can’t tell who he was before Jiho. 

Why does he love Jiho?

Kyung can’t make sense of it, he can’t find an answer. In fact, nothing at all comes to mind. The question sits ignored, awaiting some interaction. But not a single word arises in response, there’s only blankness and a hollow dread overcomes him. He must not have any feeling of the sort towards Jiho, he’s deceived himself, and for what? Why would he have done this not only to himself, but Jiho too, who was genuine in his actions from the start? It must be some selfish greed for excitement, for a story to tell, to become somebody. And in becoming somebody he’s had to decompose Jiho, take apart the essence of who he was and consume it. Kyung had never thought there was any sort of dominance between themselves, they were equals and had no power imbalance in their dynamic, but now he finds himself draining the life out of Jiho. 

It feels too late to stop, but if he doesn’t love Jiho, why wait? Why suffer any longer when he’s already stolen into his own hands what he had wanted? He’s achieved his aspiration, he has a lifetime of stories and excitement and character rooted deep in his mind now. There should be no need to be with Jiho anymore. 

Chillingly Kyung recalls Jinwoo’s words, remembering all of Seunghoon’s too. He realizes then that they have known before he had, and then he had begun to fool them so that no one would know how horrible a person he really was. 

If he doesn’t love Jiho, why is he still here? Why does he still feel this miserable biting at his ribs and a sour ghost of rotting sentiments at the back of his throat? 

 

It’s just Kyung and his boyfriend. Boyfriend. It’s strange to think that that was once a bold term for the two to label one another with. Now it feels like nothing, like it’s all they’ve ever been.

They have an hour to kill before meeting with the other boys to hang out. The strain on their relationship has driven them from much affection lately, yet they still habitually seek privacy, because even the slightest tenderness in the actions of boys, not necessarily between two boys, is linked to queerness. So, they go to the park and sit at the furthest end, far past picnic tables and where kids fly kites and people walk dogs. 

Jiho lies with his head in Kyung's lap. Kyung picks little white daisies and settles them in Jiho's hair, weaving their stems with black locks. 

"Kyung, I'm sorry."

Kyung stills. He's not sure he wants to know why.

"There's something really wrong with me," Jiho tells him quietly. Kyung holds his breath, afraid that someone's really hurt Jiho this time. He looks fine, he'd been seeming okay, did something go missed under his amateur supervision? 

"I ruin everything," the older boy whimpers, staring blankly ahead and then squeezing his eyes shut. Kyung feels his heart stop, is sure he can’t be breathing now.

The older boy has come to know his shortcomings. There's a lot, and it's become apparent that it's the cause of everything that's ever gone wrong. Not only now, but from the start, he’s lead himself this way. 

He turns onto his back to look at Kyung. 

“I wish he hadn’t left me,” Jiho says quietly. Confusion turns Kyung quiet, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to understand. He awaits more elaboration, but it never comes.

Jiho reaches up to stroke the side of Kyung’s face, worry clouding his expression as he mumbles a soft, “I can’t believe I did this to you.” Kyung swallows thickly, feeling unexpectedly choked up on an apologetic wave of grief. He wants to tell Jiho that that’s not right to say, that he’s done Jiho harm too. He wishes he could tell Jiho that he chose this relationship more than Jiho had chosen his last, because here they’re both inexperienced children, both equally unlearned. That the hurting is mutual. 

But he doesn’t tell Jiho any of that. 

When they meet the others later, the somber mood is left behind, exchanged for a different type of bitter. Kyung listens to Jiho tell Seunghoon about how he can’t pay off the hospital bills, how the money keeps adding up, how it’s becoming impossible to dig his way out of debt. 

“I’ll help pay it off,” Yukwon offers, hands in his pockets.

Kyung interjects even though they weren’t talking to him, “No you won’t. We don’t want your money.” If it even is his money. And as if Kyung has a say in any of this.

There’s an uncomfortable silence and Kyung knows he shouldn’t have brought shame to Yukwon so boldly, but he’s been running thin on patience. 

They’re always spiraling. Things could be worse, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t already pretty bad. Kyung goes to a dinner party with his parents one day, and for a moment he feels annoyed by the uncomfortably prim outfit and the scrutinizing gaze his mother pays him before letting him pass the door. She straightens his tie so that it feels somehow more suffocating and gives a pleased smile contrary to Kyung’s scowl.

He runs into some old friends there, which is the very last thing he needs. He had almost forgotten they existed up until now.

They greet his father first, shaking his hand firmly and offering polite small talk. His mother smiles artificially kind and implores with a saccharine sweetness, “We haven’t seen you boys lately, are you and our Kyung doing fine?” 

Kyung holds his breath, thinking of how this is surely the moment his parents will get a hold of the rumors that have ceaselessly been going around for the past several months. He’s going to be accused of homosexuality in front of not only his parents, but everyone they know, and the worst part is that it’s true.

A heartbeat passes. “Of course, everything is alright, we’ve all been busy with preparing for graduation is all,” one of them answers, returning a polite smile. Kyung doesn’t miss the smirk they shoot him after, expecting him to feel lowly and thankful, wanting him to grovel and kiss their shoes. 

He spends the first twenty minutes of the event following his sister around, and thankfully she humors him despite the sour mood he usually regards her with. Kyung wonders why, but then she reveals the reason herself, giving a soft smile and telling him, “You’ve been so distant Kyung, it feels like we haven’t spoken in forever, but we live in the same home. I’ve missed having my little brother around.” Guilt churns low in his stomach and like acid burns and climbs up his throat, leaving a cold rawness. 

When some of the other girls her age arrive, she apologizes to Kyung (which isn’t necessary, he thinks) before leaving to speak with them. 

Kyung spends the rest of the evening alone, eating at a table away from the other boys his age, avoiding the attention of adults who might quiz him on what he’s completed in terms of plans for the future, and trying to at least appear preoccupied with socialness for his parents. 

Unavoidably the insatiable hunger for entertainment brings the gaggle of boys to him, no matter how hard he tries to avoid them. He recognizes some, knows others quite well. 

“This is Kyung,” someone introduces, and Kyung plays along, because he hasn’t any choice but to do just that. He greets them in response but doesn’t offer his hand, instead returning them a casual, “hey”. 

“We used to be good friends, you know,” they start, and Kyung bites his lower lip as anxiety bubbles in his chest. The few that he knows exchange sly grins, all expectantly waiting for Kyung to do something. They want him to beg, he knows they want some sort of power over him. Kyung refuses. Jiho’s stubborn defiance has surely rubbed off on him. A year ago, Kyung would have given in, knowing that safety was more important than matters of pride. 

When they don’t receive the response they wish for, there’s a second of annoyed glances, and then they proceed, “But then he started spending time with that bunch of homos.” Kyung cringes.

He’s learned, from having often caught word of rumors, that by association with Jiho the entirety of his group had been assumed queer. He doesn’t understand the logic to that, but then again, he’s never understood any of the conventions of society.

They watch Kyung, waiting for him to deny it now. But their testing the waters leads to no response from Kyung, so they push further, “You’ve all noticed, right? He’s always with the tall one who dyes his hair.”

“Oh, right,” a new face responds, and Kyung looks to him with an eyebrow quirked. He’s never seen this guy before. “I heard someone caught him sucking that boy off behind the gym.” 

_Oh._ Hearing that feels like a punch to the stomach, and Kyung should know, he’s been hit pretty often. It might even feel worse, makes Kyung’s face burn with embarrassment. What makes it unbearably worse is that he’s never done that, it’s a complete lie, and they won't believe him. He finds that his fingers faintly tremble. They’ve struck a nerve. 

“Gross,” and then a chorus of groans, of laughing, of disgusting jokes at the expense of Kyung and his relationship with Jiho.

Kyung hates it, despises these assumptions most. He’s never done that. 

For yet another unintelligible reason to him, people amidst their teasing unfailingly paint Kyung’s relationship with Jiho as something solely sexual, as something vulgar and obscene. But that’s not what this is, that’s not what they are. There’s more innocent affection shared between them than anything. 

With how things have been lately, it might make more sense and be significantly easier to tell them he has no association with Jiho. But funnily enough, Kyung has slowly drifted from the interest in easy. 

Still, the embarrassment buzzes in his mind and he finds himself speechless. There’s no way he can deny it without giving into their game and humoring them. Boys are so cruel at this age. Where could it be learned from that they desire these moments of triumph too easily stolen from those below them?

Kyung lets them snicker and joke, refusing to give them the satisfaction of hearing any response. Momentarily he thinks to perhaps push the kid who suggested the rumor, he thinks to hit him, but the thought leaves just as it comes, unacted on. It’s so unlike himself to want to resort to violence, to think people are only reasoned with through physical altercation. 

Of course, after that he becomes quieter, somehow more drawn away. The drive home he says nothing, only watching out the window as his siblings and parents share conversation. As the days go by he feels further cast away from his former social circles, feels immensely the weight of being an outsider. 

The following morning Kyung’s parents go for groceries, his siblings elsewhere, most likely gone to the company of friends who they haven’t been banned from having like Kyung has with his own. He tells them he has homework, that he’s content with being home for once. They don’t seem to believe him, but he's a force not to be reckoned with.

The door shuts and he’s instantly besides the phone, curling and twisting the telephone cord between his fingers as he dials, 

“Hello?”  
“Hi, Jiho.”  
“Kyung?”  
“Yeah.”

Kyung doesn’t waste any time in beating around the bush, he had called Jiho with a distinct purpose, “I met with some of my old friends yesterday.” He pauses briefly, giving chance for Jiho to speak, but the response is only a heavy sigh, as if he knows that nothing good can come from interacting with anyone of the such.

“Jiho, they said things,” Kyung tells, voice dropping into a whisper laced with hurt, “They said really gross things about us.” He feels like a child, like he’s been pushed on the playground and everyone’s laughing at him, taunting and teasing mercilessly. But he has Jiho, only Jiho.

Jiho sounds so sorry when he responds quietly, “Kyung...everyone does.” Kyung grips the cord tight in one fist and frowns, taking a wavering breath, trying and failing to sound unbothered, “I know, but I don’t like it.”

“Can I come over?” 

Kyung shakes his head, although Jiho wouldn’t know. “No, my parents will be home before long.”

There’s a pause and Kyung hear the phone be put down, Jiho vanishing from the other side for a moment. He returns with the jangle of keys and says, “I’ll be over in ten to pick you up, okay?”

That's how Kyung finds himself curled up on the couch beside Jiho, pressed against his side. Jiho kisses his temple and wraps an arm around him. The younger boy closes his eyes and snuggles closer, overwhelmed by some feeling like love for Jiho that confuses him wildly. 

“They’re really mean,” Kyung whispers to Jiho, finding his one hand and taking it in his own. Jiho laces their fingers together and squeezes his hand. Kyung can feel him nod. 

“I know, baby.” They could say whatever they want, but it’s not enough to make Kyung want to distance from Jiho. Jiho is the first source of comfort that comes to mind, which is why he’s here now, bundled up in Jiho’s arms, enveloped in his warmth and love, after having been ridiculed for exactly this. 

 

Jiho bleaches his hair again. Kyung doesn’t mind so much this time. He runs a hand through the older boy’s hair and frowns. Jiho mirrors him, turned unhappy by noticing how Kyung must not like it. Kyung doesn’t correct the assumption. Really. he’s unhappy about other things, about wishing he could love Jiho without all the complications now. He wishes he hadn’t hurt Jiho. 

Everything becomes a blur. Flashes of striking white-blond hair, cigarette smoke breathed between words, fingers scraped red by the cold, blush and bruises. Kyung finds that he's wishing himself dead more and more often. He wishes Jiho were dead too. 

His friends are loud and rambunctious. But under the rowdiness there’s the gradual cracking, the slow tiring from being scathed by violence quicker than they can heal. There are haunting thoughts of those that they’ve lost but no precognition to what they could lose next. 

Feelings become muddled. The burn across Kyung’s back becomes ugly lumps of white scar tissue, deeming him alien forever. Thoughts conflict and tangle in his mind, taking drastic leaps from hating Jiho with a dangerously hot fury and then to loving him with a wretched misery that rots his skin. He thinks if they were closer, if he had more, then he wouldn’t feel this way. 

Jiho watches Kyung, analytical of every change of expression as his hand slips under Kyung’s shirt. Fingers skid delicately over Kyung’s skin, leaving fluttering touches scattered across his side. 

Lying under Jiho, he wishes that this were the same tyrant he witnesses beyond these walls. Desperately he desires for Jiho to hurt him, for those hands to turn vituperative. So easily Jiho could over power him, smother his smaller self with one forceful push. He can see it, _feel_ it. He'd struggle under Jiho, so petite and powerless that the helpless judder of his hips, the urgent refusal in forms of pushing, would be so easily restrained. Jiho could pin both his wrists over his head with only one hand, fingers closing tight to draw bruises into the pale skin. Jiho could bite at the flesh of his neck, claim him viciously and with animosity, an animalistic hunger turning him to defile Kyung’s body. And he'd struggle, he’d try his best to break away. He'd cry and scream trying to liberate himself from the older boy, breaking into pitiful sobs. And Jiho could take one hand and fit a collar to Kyung’s throat flawlessly, restraining his blood flow and turning him light headed, so Kyung would cry until he couldn't see through the dizziness. Jiho could hurt him so easily, could take advantage effortlessly, and Kyung wants him to. Then Kyung could say he hates Jiho and it would be justified in every sense, it would be so easy. He could leave Jiho and never feel remorse, he could say Jiho was undoubtedly a bad man. 

Jiho kisses Kyung softly, sugar sweet in the deliberate effort to be gentle. Kyung whines a wordless request, _kiss me again_. Jiho does.

This is how they are. Rested on his back with Jiho looking over him, Kyung knows he's reached the lowest point he could ever possibly achieve. How shameful that he’s let himself succumb to desire. And being here does nothing to soothe his worries, in no way has the confliction in his heart been appeased. 

His lover has brought him here to this bitterness. Even in moments so intimate he finds no reassurance. 

Later, when Jiho has cleaned both himself and Kyung before stepping out briefly, the younger boy turns over on to his side, still naked. The bed feels so large, so spacious, if he lies in it alone. It's cold even though his skin still feels sticky with sweat and shared warmth. 

He shouldn’t be here. He should go home.

When Jiho returns, Kyung pretends to be asleep. He feels Jiho’s hand at his waist, then he is carefully dragged to be fitted perfectly against Jiho’s chest. There's a moment of shuffling that Kyung guesses is Jiho’s efforts to rearrange the blanket. His suspicions are confirmed when he feels Jiho tuck the blanket carefully under Kyung’s chin, wrapping him so that he is enveloped in a comforting warmth. What is worst is when Jiho snuggles closer, brushing a feathery kiss to Kyung’s ear and then settling his cheek against the nape of Kyung’s neck. Kyung’s heart aches with an overflowing concoction of love and guilt.

Regret builds in him. Lately, everything he thinks of is tied with remorse, with the longing to redo it all. He can’t shake the knowing that no matter how he pretends to fix things, there’s a history of mutual harm that always haunts. They can’t escape it, it’s a part of their relationship too. 

Jiho twists his ankle one weekend and Kyung curls up on the couch with the phone held to his ear, listening to the older boy’s shameful recounting. Owlishly his mother peers from beyond the kitchen island, straining to hear. 

Kyung’s heart twists and wraps itself further in a knotted mess of its own veins and arteries. Life lines that feel as if they were suffocating him. 

He closes his eyes and tries to make the smart choice. “I’ll come over,” he whispers instead, feeling another stone added to the weight of the burden Jiho is. He sets the phone down, hearing a far too loud click of it falling into place. His mother’s gaze follows the movement but he refuses to address her silent questions. Then he grabs his jacket and disappears out the door. 

“It doesn’t hurt,” Jiho offers, foot propped up on the end of the couch. Kyung shakes his head and sighs. 

“That’s because you’re not using it,” He counters, taking ice from a tray and dropping it into a bag. Jiho watches nervously, Kyung can practically feel his boyfriend’s gaze burning into him. He knows Jiho is afraid. 

Kyung sits up from where he’s cross-legged on the floor besides the couch and looks at the swollenness of Jiho’s ankle. He works first at tying a bandage around it, ignoring Jiho’s complaints of it being too tight.

“Compression is good,” Kyung explains curtly, pulling the elastic material tighter. Jiho whimpers again but Kyung pretends not to hear it. 

He sets the ice over Jiho’s foot then and gets up with another low sigh. Jiho looks up at him with an apologetic pout. Kyung ignores that too. “Try not to use it too much for a while.” 

Jiho opens his mouth to speak, forcing a tense grin, wanting to break the tension with something stupid and silly like he tends to, but Kyung cuts him off, “Just… Just listen for once, okay? Stay put, don’t mess it up more. Stop causing people trouble.” Jiho shuts his mouth, frowns softly and nods without another word. 

A long pause passes by. Kyung busies himself in taking the ice tray back to the kitchen, filling it with water and shutting it in the freezer. When he comes back and bends down to pick up the torn packaging of the bandage, Jiho speaks again, sounding meek and unsure of himself.

“Kyungie...can you stay with me?” 

Kyung doesn’t look up, stuttering in his movement slightly. “What?” 

There’s somehow a further degradation in the courage in Jiho’s voice. Quieter still, Jiho reiterates, “Don’t leave me.” 

“I’m going home,” Kyung answers bluntly without looking back at Jiho.

In January Kyung is to go on a trip with his family to his grandparents’ home. It’s a break from Jiho and Kyung thinks he needs it desperately.

Kyung spends much of that week with Jiho, watching him limp around before deciding to interject, forcing him to sit down. He settles down beside him, of course, hand coming to his arm to absentmindedly trace lines from his neck back to the curve of his shoulder.

Commotion bubbles up among some of the boys, drawing Kyung’s attention away from Jiho and instead to the cement barrier of the lot. Seunghoon gets up to look, Jinwoo curiously watching although he doesn’t follow. 

“Hey, look at this, kid,” Seunghoon beckons, turning back to Kyung briefly and gesturing for him to follow. 

A crow dangles, dead, from the lamppost across the street. 

For a long stretch of time they only watch. Thoughts that first carry to Kyung’s consciousness speak of morbid foreboding. 

“It’s just to scare other crows away,” Kyung hurriedly tells the others, shooing them away from the ledge. He hopes the urgency in his tone is undetected, it probably is. He’s learned to lie quite well. 

Numbly, Kyung settles back beside Jiho. Static, shrill and directionless, chews at his ears. Through it Jiho’s voice breaks, lowly, reserved for only Kyung to hear. A secret. 

“Kyung, the painting, it’s gone.” 

A secret. And sounds that devour his sanity in the same way Jiho burns his soul out. 

“I was angry,” Kyung whispers, voice lost to the distorting echoes in the hollow of his skull.

“I figured,” his boyfriend answers. And then amidst the horrid noise rings Jiho’s voice in repetition, saying it knows and knows and knows.

Jiho drives Kyung home. They walk around his neighborhood for a while. Kyung doesn’t really care if anyone he knows sees him with Jiho. 

Kyung thinks for some time. He thinks about the painting, about how he had ruined it with his own hands. He wonders of how Jiho might have felt. He tries to decide how he himself feels now.

Long minutes pass of walking in silence. The air is cold, bites at their faces. Kyung turns to look at Jiho, question coming to mind then. A question he’s wondered often.

"Have you ever been in love before?" 

Cliché, asked always, as if tempting envy, wanting to wake him from the place that he surely rests at in all people. 

A short pause to think. What a loaded question. 

"I've been in love." Infatuation is nothing, meaningless. Interest can be self-induced, could be painted by boredom. 

"And I've loved too," And Kyung thinks bitterly, of course he has, he has a lot of it to give. "I love the boys and I love you but then I'm in love with you, too." The fire in his heart subsides, smolders then fades. 

"That's a lot of love," is all Kyung says. 

In his bedroom he sits by the window for a long time, wishing the stars were just a little less obscured by light pollution. He’s felt comfort under them, a type that mirrors the comfort of Jiho’s warm embrace closely. He thinks back to being blanketed under the stars, alone with Jiho, thinking of running away.

So many things to think of. The stars and Jiho. Gravity and the way it makes the universe dance. The haunting scars and the way night eclipses all sense.

 

Time begins to rush by incredibly fast. It hits Kyung one day as he’s sitting in class, listening to the requirements for graduation being reiterated for the millionth time, hearing the deadlines that have sneakily inched closer and closer until now, where they sit precariously close to him. A chill of anxiety overcomes Kyung. For whatever reason, the quick trickling of sand past the narrow glass neck of an hourglass feels oppressive. It feels as if they’re running out of time, but Kyung can’t tell what it is that’s coming to a close. 

Deadlines looming overhead, Kyung thinks he should start writing his applications. The prompts all seem superficial, so light and unimportant that he can do nothing but stare at them for an hour before retiring from the task once again. He had attempted at it, picking several and trying to force mundane anecdotes from his academic life into having some sort of meaning or relevance to who he had become now, but it all sounds boring and dishonest. 

The girl who sits in front of him turns around to speak with him again, jolting him back into awareness of his surroundings. 

She smiles at him and he doesn’t return it. “How’s your girlfriend?” 

Kyung frowns, for the briefest moment staring at her in confusion as he tries to remember who she could possibly be referring to when he hasn’t had a girlfriend in so long. It takes a few long seconds for him to remember she means Jiho, because that’s who he’s been referring to in his stories to her. 

“She’s fine,” Kyung lies, wondering when the rumors will reach this girl too, wondering when inevitably she will cease her talking to him because she’ll know he’s not normal. 

She bugs him more than usual. Kyung waits after school for Jiho and she tags along, claiming she has to wait for her mother in the back-parking lot too. Even though she tries to converse, it ends up being mostly her chattering away and Kyung occasionally nodding as if he cares.

When Jiho comes by, the passenger seat is claimed by Yoon. Kyung frowns. He hadn’t been told that Yoon was coming with them. Resentment stirs in his throat, but he keeps his mouth clamped shut in fear of making a scene in front of the girl. 

He forces a smile, being overly sweet and soft about it and suddenly paying full attention to the girl. “That’s my ride,” he tells her, a hand brushing against her arm to earn her attention, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She smiles and waves goodbye to him even as he gets in the car. 

“Hey,” Kyung mumbles, tone taking a sudden change once he’s away from her and now addressing Jiho. 

Jiho glances at him through the rear-view mirror and frowns. “Who was that girl?” 

Kyung slumps against the door and watches out the window. “A friend.” It feels weird to call her that. 

In between the tension of the couple sits Yoon, notably distraught but choosing to stay quiet. 

The jealousy has no place in their relationship. To think that of all the things that had occurred all it takes is a bit of attention from another boy, or girl, to unravel their relationship is a bit absurd. If they’ve come this far without faltering in their loyalty to one another despite all that they’ve weathered, there should be no question of dedication between them. Yet, here they are, another unspoken argument over envy.

When they meet the others later, the bitterness still lingers between Kyung and Jiho. He can taste it there between them even though he refuses to kiss Jiho when he leans close in anticipation. Yoon awkwardly pushes past them to seek a place between Mino and Jinwoo instead. 

Seunghoon must catch on to it, he never fails to, and the way he watches the quiet exchanges between the couple says so. Kyung ignores it and finds attention elsewhere, settling on a turned over crate by the couch where Jaehyo sits. He watches with narrowed eyes when Seunghoon pulls Jiho aside to talk, assuming they’re discussing their revenge business again. Stupid. 

Seunghoon has a hand on Jiho’s shoulder. “You picked Yoon up on the way?” 

Jiho frowns, eyebrows knitted in confusion, “Yeah, you told me to. That wrong or something?” He pulls away from the other man, shaking his hand away and taking a step back.

Seunghoon shakes his head and sighs, staring flatly at Jiho. “It’s good, it’s fine, except your little boyfriend’s pissy again. You really got a thing for Yoon or what?” The accusation drips with annoyance and an unspoken threat. 

Hearing that, Jiho’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, mouth falling open. He stares wordlessly for a moment, waiting for Seunghoon to break into a teasing laugh, but he doesn’t. “What?”

The harshness to Seunghoon’s stare subsides, replaced instead by a tired exasperation that always meets Jiho’s obtuseness. “You know what I mean,” Seunghoon eggs on, “you’re not interested in getting with Yoon, right?”

"What? Yoon is way younger than me, are you serious?" 

Seunghoon stares blankly at Jiho as if waiting for a punchline that never comes. 

"Jiho, he's the same age as Kyung."  
"What?" Jiho is a little slow, the correlation doesn't hit him quite then.

"Your boyfriend is younger than you," Seunghoon clarifies, sounding simultaneously shocked and tired at how Jiho seems as if he really doesn't know. 

"Oh, right," Jiho tips his head to one side in thought, "I forgot. It's not the same, Yoon seems a lot younger." He hadn’t ever thought of Kyung as being younger, the gap in their ages is miniscule as it is, and only feels further nonexistent with the way Kyung treats him lately. 

“Kyung is delusional, you’re too dumb to cheat on him,” Seunghoon concludes with another drawn out sigh, rubbing his head as if a headache had suddenly plagued him after the short conversation with Jiho. 

For a moment Jiho watches Seunghoon walk off, and then he turns to look at Kyung. The younger boy is standing now, talking to Taeil about something by the barriers at the end of the lot. Jiho goes over.

“Hey Kyungie,” Jiho greets, all sourness gone, as he approaches Kyung from behind, draping himself over the younger’s back and resting his chin on Kyung’s shoulder. Kyung nearly falls over with the sudden weight that Jiho puts on him. 

“What-” Kyung tries to begin, but he stops when Jiho wraps his arms around his middle and presses a quick kiss to his chin. 

All the while, Taeil looks somewhat uncomfortable, and eventually groans in disgust before walking away. “You know, I’ll give you two the alone time,” He snorts as he backs away from the couple. 

For a brief moment, Kyung tries to be annoyed. “Hey, I was talking to him,” He complains as he tries to pull away from Jiho, but Jiho has him held too firmly. Or maybe he isn’t trying very hard. 

“But I wanna talk to you,” Jiho counters, turning them so their overlooking the gray of the streets below. Kyung rolls his eyes and though Jiho can’t see that, the silence is satisfaction enough. 

Jiho sways them slightly, pressing another feather-soft kiss to Kyung’s cheek. “Are you jealous?” There's no elaboration needed, they both know what conversation is being had. Kyung knows Jiho means to ask about Yoon.

Embarrassed and defensive, Kyung huffs in answer, “Aren’t you too?” 

Jiho laughs and somehow that washes the annoyance away from Kyung. It’s so refreshing to hear and he can’t help but grin in effect. “God, you’re so stupid,” Kyung adds, trying to refrain from giving away his fading annoyance. 

“You are too,” Jiho argues, speaking low, but Kyung hears him fine with how close he is. Jiho pauses for a moment, giving a soft hum as a thought occurs to him. “Don’t be jealous, I love you, you know.” When Kyung doesn’t answer for another long pause, Jiho adds, “Only you.” 

Kyung nods. He didn’t need Jiho to elaborate, in fact, he should never have needed this exchange at all. He’s always known Jiho is dedicated to him only. The pause, the hesitation, was for other reasons. But finally, he decides to reciprocate the sentiment, voice soft, “I love you, too, Jiho.” 

He wants to turn and see Jiho’s face, but he also doesn’t want Jiho to stop holding him. So, he settles for just assuming Jiho is smiling too. There’s a gentle breeze and the cold of winter is approaching, but held in Jiho’s arms there’s nothing but warmth. 

A car drives past on the street below, stopping at the stop sign for a second before disappearing around the corner. Kyung wonders what kind of people are in it, if there’s someone like him in the passenger seat, or someone like Jiho driving. What if they’re unhappy too? Kyung hopes they figure things out. 

They’re growing up. It occurs to him as he watches the car vanish from sight, held there in Jiho’s embrace. He is not who he was when he had first met Jiho. And Jiho is not the boy he had met then either. They’ve grown, and they’re still growing, to become new people. It scares Kyung to think that they’re growing around each other, intertwined with one another in a mess to never be detangled. As time passes, they both change in tandem, in ways that make them perfect complements to one another. Even now, they learn to shed jealousy as a past phase of youth, they’ve grown beyond it. The extent of how they’ve interwoven their entire beings’ scares Kyung and it excites him too. If they had forever, he thinks they could work things out, make it complication free.

Later Jiho leaves him when Jihoon calls him over. Jiho tries to tug Kyung along, but Kyung insists he’d rather stay and watch over the ledge a while longer. 

Watching Jiho across the room, a thought occurs to Kyung. He doesn’t want to hurt Jiho anymore. He thinks he could easily give everything up for Jiho. No one has to know, but he’s angry too. All he wants is to be allowed to be himself; how selfish can people be to not allow him even that? He’s upset with it all and he’s learned what it feels like to have faced the pressure that Jiho has felt for so long. 

It feels too late that he’s come to this conclusion. Their time feels finite now, but Kyung can’t prove it to them. Only he knows, and the pain of it is very difficult to shoulder alone. 

Kyung decides then he’s done talking to that girl. 

Kyung drops by Seunghoon’s place the next day. When Seunghoon opens the door to him, he’s wearing an apron and holding a spatula, obviously having left something cooking in the kitchen. Jinwoo is laying across the sofa, legs kicking the air as he reads something from a flimsy textbook. It always surprised Kyung how homey it is in their little apartment, despite the type of people they really are. 

Kyung sits in the chair at the kitchen counter and watches Seunghoon cook, neither saying anything. When Seunghoon turns off the stove and turns to plate everything, he raises an eyebrow and asks, “So, how’re you and Jiho?” 

“Oh, right,” Kyung pauses, thinking to himself briefly. “I think we’re okay.”

“Are you really?” Seunghoon raises an eyebrow, looks doubtful.

Kyung isn’t sure how to prove it, and he knows the distrust to be justified, even if it does annoy him a little. On impulse it occurs to him that he has one thing to offer in sign of honesty.

From his pocket he draws the half empty pack of cigarettes he’s steadily working through for the day. He drops it on the counter and the hollow thud draws Seunghoon’s attention to it.

“Jiho doesn’t like it, so I’m going to stop,” Kyung explains earnestly, leaving it sitting there between them. 

Seunghoon gives a small grin, and Kyung expects teasing to come, but for whatever reason, the older man keeps the witty comments to himself this time. Instead he prompts rather slowly, "So you're okay with it all, right?"

Kyung thinks again for a moment. He understands the implications of the question fully. He's thought about it a lot, it surely should not require any more thought. So he cuts the internal monologue short and nods his head slowly, "It's okay if it's wrong for us to be dating, I don't care." 

He thinks it's an answer worth pride. He's worked hard to arrive at this point. He's suffered for this cause, he's _burned_. All of it has been to arrive upon this simple answer, this clear cut response to all the disapproval. There is no doubt in his mind now in terms of his relationship with Jiho on the premise that it is not worth the struggle because of their being queer. There is an abundance of other aspects to look into, to ponder and explore, but society's gaze is not one anymore. 

Yet, despite this moment of triumph, this drink of confidence that Kyung has taken, Seunghoon seems displeased with the answer. 

The older man shakes his head and tuts. "Kyung, that's not the right way to think of it. This way, Jiho will leave you behind eventually." 

Just the thought frightens Kyung, making him stare wordlessly in shock. In confusion.

"You can't keep agreeing with them, thinking that it's wrong. It's not wrong, is it? You don't really think that? What's there to be immoral, incorrect, about loving someone? It's all the same. You have to know that before you can ever move on, Kyung. It's them who's wrong." 

Kyung breathes in slow, waiting to feel burdened by this new enlightenment, but the crushing weight never comes. Instead, he feels the urge to repeat the sentiment through a numb, cotton stuffed mouth, "It's not wrong." 

After that evening, Kyung realizes he's never felt so sure of himself. The certainty in the fact that he and Jiho are in no way deserving of what they have faced gives him a new dedication to this cause. It becomes an epiphany, one that makes him learned of the reason Jiho and Seunghoon and Jinwoo and all the boys are the way that they are. Their anger becomes his own and it eats his flesh raw, gnaws at his bones until the dull ache becomes unavoidable.

Still high on the buzzing energy of having unearthed the most fundamental truth, the next day Kyung makes sure to draw the attention of the girl who sits in front of him in class. Eager as always, she turns towards him to request a new story. Kyung speaks before she can manage to get past a greeting. 

"Why are you talking to me? Haven't you heard?" 

_Burn your bridges_. 

She blinks at him, a worried frown wavering across her lips as she stares on in confusion. "No?"

"You don't know?" Kyung curls his fingers into tight fists, musters all the courage he has to keep his voice from shaking. "You haven't heard? So you don't know I've been lying to you all this time? Everything, it was all fake."

She looks startled, inching back and brows furrowed as she stammers, "W-what are you talking about?"

For a split second he thinks that it might be right to turn back, to stop now. There is no reason to do this, he doesn't have to cut ties from the world. Hasn't he always wanted to live in secrecy, in serene privacy? So why this, why has he succumbed to what he once despised? The anger of Jiho has turned him stupid too, that being the way of shared suffering.

"None of it was true, I don't even have a girlfriend. If anyone tells you anything about me, it's true. I'm gay and I have a boyfriend and all the time I'm not here it's because of him. Everything else was a lie."

He says it too fast, too forcefully and with a passion that she mistakes for aggression, rendering her speechless. She's unable to comprehend enough to feel disgusted or even surprised. She just stares at him, failing to form words.

Kyung breathes in sharp. "Don't talk to me anymore, okay? Leave me alone."

 

Kyung thinks of the crow swinging slowly from the lamppost. It must reek of death. He thinks of the painting torn and submerged in water. He thinks of the scar across Jiho’s one leg, from having been stabbed all those months ago, and the scar on the other leg from having been burned by Kyung only weeks ago. He thinks and thinks until his head feels dizzy, as if it were spinning lazily like a dryer, colors of all the memories blurring and tumbling together.

Things have been tough. He still can’t sort his feelings for Jiho, yet slowly he finds himself learning to trust again. He finds the anger between them dispel. And even if it might not be love anymore, it feels comforting to know he can let Jiho hold him without feeling rampant bitterness between themselves anymore. He’s not sure how to express his thoughts these days.

Up until the day he leaves town for the first week of January, he keeps telling himself he will enjoy the break from Jiho. 

And he thinks it is nice, at first. The first day goes rather uneventfully and free of thoughts of Jiho, until it’s dark and Kyung is left alone to dwell on his thoughts, and then it occurs to him that he feels the absence of Jiho to be debilitating. He lays on his makeshift bed on the floor for hours, trying and failing to sleep. 

For the entire week, Kyung learns how dependent he’s become on Jiho’s company as source of security. It quickly becomes impossible to catch even a sliver of rest, not with the constant train of thoughts running circles in his mind. He can’t stop thinking _Jiho, Jiho, Jiho_. It becomes that he catches himself thinking absentmindedly of what Jiho might be doing, miles away, even when he has other things to be preoccupied with at hand. 

He thinks to call Jiho one night, creeping towards the phone and considering it for a few minutes too long before reminding himself the risk is not worth it. He can live a few days without Jiho.

When he gets home the following Sunday night, he drops everything to call Jiho, whispering an urgent _”I’m home, come over,”_ and hanging up before Jiho can even utter a response.

He waits impatiently for about an hour, forcing himself to keep from dozing off. The window sits ajar, waiting as quietly as Kyung does.

It’s not a matter of if Jiho will come over, it’s the question of when, and he surely does, even if it is a while later. Kyung tries to keep the grin off his face when he sees Jiho, wanting to play it cool, wanting to convince Jiho he hasn’t missed him so dearly.

It's been a long way coming home. Kyung indulges in a hug, holding on to Jiho tight and breathing in his scent. It has definitely been a far too long road to this moment, far too much hurting

They squeeze into his twin bed as if little children, naive and seeking refuge under fluffy white sheets. Kyung holds Jiho's one hand between his and smiles. Jiho's ever pouty lips turn to a small smile briefly too, face inches from Kyung's. 

"I missed you so much, I wanted to talk to you so bad," Jiho tells him earnestly with a childlike innocence.

"I was only gone a week," Kyung giggles in response, running a thumb across Jiho's fingers.

"Yeah, but I missed you anyways. You're my best friend." 

Best friend. Kyung's heart flips and he hangs on to the title a little longer, repeating it in his mind. Best friends. 

Jiho speaks up again, blinking pretty black eyes, "Can you hold me?" Kyung nods immediately. Of course.

Jiho plays the chords of his emotions so well. The small hum of pleased happiness that Jiho gives at Kyung's agreement pulls taut another string of Kyung's heart. So cute, so precious, all his. All Kyung's. His boyfriend. His best friend.

The older boy turns, almost elbowing Kyung, but managing it otherwise well. Kyung wraps his arms around Jiho and pulls him close, pressing a soothing kiss to the back of his neck.

Best friends. Kyung holds on a little tighter. He feels Jiho ghost fingers across his knuckles, touch delicate. So tender, so soft. He never wants to let go. 

For a while, just like that, everything feels okay. 

Why does he love Jiho? 

The answer is not quantifiable. Assuming that that love had died was always the wrong approach, it had never died, it was simply undefinable. There is no reason why Kyung loves Jiho, he just does. Some things aren’t in need of over complication.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry its been so long! And sorry this is a lot of filler, its to tie up loose ends before the conclusion! Hope you're all well


	16. Lucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _His parents are going to meet his boyfriend. They’re going to find everything out._

A happy evening. 

From setting sun comes long shadows, run below their feet and across the pavement. Cold air turns their breaths into puffs of steam. Jiho breathes out long and heavy just to see the cloud of faint white before its prompt disappearance. 

Letting slip an adoring sigh, Kyung leans forward and rests his face on one hand, oblivious to the mocking that comes from Taeil and Jaehyo who stand not far away. 

When the wonder of it leaves Jiho, rendering him once again bored, he comes bounding back to Kyung, immediately cupping his face with chillingly cold fingers that Kyung doesn’t particularly mind. The younger lets Jiho tilt his face up, waits for him to lean down to close the space between them. He grins against Jiho’s lips, can’t help but to, and can’t contain it still when Jiho pulls back minutely only to then press their foreheads together. 

“Love you,” Kyung whispers first this time. Jiho rewards him a kiss to the tip of his nose. 

Kyung spends most cold winter nights like this, out past curfew with the rest of the boys, not doing anything in particular, wrapped up in Jiho’s oversized jackets. 

They’re broken from their moment when Seunghoon’s voice comes in a teasing complaint, “You guys done being gross or are you two gonna need a room?” 

Jiho rolls his eyes, straightening then but pulling Kyung close so that his cheek presses against the older boy’s chest. Kyung closes his eyes, savors the warmth. 

“We’re looking for something fun to do,” Seunghoon announces. Kyung concentrates on the comforting hold Jiho has around him. 

Everything feels unsettlingly well lately. So well that amidst all the fun, all the enthralling sensations of being hopelessly in love with Jiho, Kyung can barely remember his own inhibitions. Where once were reservations is now almost eager acceptance, a ready willingness, to always accompany the boys, and most importantly, Jiho, in everything they do. “You’ve really become one of us,” Seunghoon had said one day, and Kyung could not find any argument to it.

Maybe it’s the magic of Seunghoon’s words that have initiated this shift in personality. That is to say, all that had kept Kyung from being in agreement with loving Jiho even with all his dangerously adventurous quirks, was his believing there was truth in their relationship being wrong. So, perhaps having rejected societies ideals was all it took.

Or, in other ways, it might have been that they were tired of arguing, that beyond all the difficulties, the bare bones of their relationship was solely love and that overshadowed the disagreements. Maybe to assuage that growing fire of animosity in Kyung’s heart all that was needed was a subtle nudge, a push in the direction towards loving Jiho again. 

Possibly above all, they had grown up. They were no longer the same people that they had been over a year ago and their accepting it now was only another development to who they were becoming. 

“Yeah, let’s do something,” Jiho agrees, and Kyung very gently nods against Jiho’s body, blinking open his eyes and watching the others for some suggestion. 

They debate the ideas for what to do for a while. When Kyung had first met them, they used to have similar arguments over what movies to watch, where to eat, innocent things like that. 

Eventually they settle for a game that Jiho and Taeil come up with after some back and forth on the topic of shoplifting. 

At such a late hour, there aren’t many stores open, but they find a supermarket that stays open long into the night and make it their target. 

“Let’s see who can take the most,” Taeil suggests and Jiho lights up at the idea, giddy with excitement. 

Everyone is almost instantly on board with the idea, only Jihoon backs out, “It’s trouble, and I need to be home anyways. You guys go ahead though.” 

Kyung assumes it’s for the best. This is trouble for kids without futures, not for good kids like Jihoon.

Somehow the flickering fluorescent lights of the supermarket look pretty, even when the setting is run down and mistreated. There’s something lovely about the way the vivid lights bleed into the inky black night time. The place is practically deserted, so Kyung doesn’t hesitate to climb into the cart when Jiho suggests it with a cheeky grin. Kyung leans back and watches Jiho, thinks he’s handsome even upside down, and purses his lips for a kiss that Jiho doesn’t hesitate to give.

“This isn’t your honeymoon,” snorts Jaehyo, watching the couple with a raised eyebrow. Kyung looks back to Seunghoon and Jinwoo who linger behind the group with hands held, a rare appearance of affection between the two. Jaehyo, perplexed, follows Kyung’s gaze and when Kyung looks back at him, he can’t keep the smug grin off his face. “You’re just bitter and single,” Kyung says, and Jiho laughs too. 

They get in the store and split into their groups as planned. Jiho and Kyung together as always. Other than that, they’re left to their own devices. They know the situation is going to turn bad, but that’s exactly why they’re unbothered.

There’s shouting as some of the boys pester the employees as distraction. It’s only a game, Kyung argues to himself, and that’s enough to keep himself from wanting to stop it. 

Jiho pushes the cart up one aisle and Kyung points out everyone’s favorite snacks, purposely getting Jiho’s wrong. 

“Sorry Jiho,” he playfully quips, reaching one arm up to pat the older boy’s cheek. “I’ll make it up to you with a kiss.” He laughs against his boyfriend’s lips. 

The store is loud for a while, but the couple don’t respond to it. They pretend it’s just them, which isn’t so hard. 

Jiho looks at Kyung and then in the direction of the store’s front. “I’ll check what the others are up to,” He tells Kyung before leaving him and the cart to scan the store for any other people.

When he gets back Kyung is precariously standing in the cart, struggling to get out. “It’s still practically empty,” Jiho is saying when he’s faced with Kyung’s dilemma. 

“You’re so stupid,” he laughs. Instantly he’s at Kyung’s side, and Kyung takes the cue to wrap his arms around Jiho’s neck and let himself be lifted. When he finally feels the tiles of the floor underfoot again, he pushes Jiho and retaliates, “You’re more stupid.” 

They end up sat on the floor behind the shelf of the makeup aisle, Kyung on his knees searching the neatly arranged cosmetics and Jiho waiting patiently, cross legged. The artificial white lights of the store wash over them in an ominous glow, turned eerie by how empty the building is. 

“Red?”  
“At least pick pink.”  
“Your lips are already pink.”  
“Kyungie.” 

Eventually, Kyung wins despite Jiho’s whining. He breaks the little seal on one of the lipsticks he’s picked from the shelf and tosses the cap aside without a second thought. He crawls closer to Jiho, one hand kept on Jiho’s knee for balance and the other holding his cheek. 

He feels drunk, moving the pigment languidly across his lover’s lips, watching Jiho’s face rather than the path of the lipstick. The way Jiho looks from this closely is breathtaking. Kyung feels absolutely dizzy on the feel of it all; it’s like some skewed fever dream where everything is just slightly off, so that it’s impossible to quite catch the irregularities. The flickering fluorescent lights are their soundtrack and the subtle hum of stubborn bugs somewhere outside the doors are the choir. Nothing makes sense.

Kyung giggles at the way the red looks on Jiho. “Hot,” He teases, getting out of Jiho’s space and sitting down before him.

“I hate you,” Jiho sighs, leaning back to search the aisle for a mirror. Kyung looks too, absentmindedly answering, “No, you love me."

“Yeah, I do.”

Kyung tugs at Jiho’s hands, wanting to see his face again. Jiho obliges reluctantly and turns back to Kyung, and for some reason it’s Jiho who laughs, not Kyung.

Jiho laces their fingers together. “This is so dumb.” Kyung laughs too. 

He tugs Jiho closer, keeping their fingers intertwined. “What’s the point of it if you don’t kiss me?” Jiho doesn’t need any more prompting and grabs Kyung to pull him closer. Kyung can’t stop laughing. 

The red turns sloppy and smeared and it takes them half an hour to find wipes to clean up the makeup with before they leave the store with hands held. 

Before leaving, Jiho reminds Kyung, “Oh, the game.”

“Right, hold on,” Kyung answers, pausing to first stuff the used wipes into his pocket before hastily adding handfuls of the makeup that lines the shelf nearest him. “You too,” he commands, holding a handful of colorful tubes towards his boyfriend. 

Then they’re out. Behind them the vacant supermarket watches on, mouth gaping to let anyone and anything invade it. 

Drowsy on the late-night tiredness and the detached, isolated feel of it all, time runs slow. Kyung feels lethargic, he feels invincible. He laughs at something Jiho says, affectionately taking Jiho’s hand for a moment to turn him in his direction so that he can drink in the way the older boy looks, smiling wide and eyes creased. And then he lets go, reluctantly, but without fear of losing him. 

Distantly he hears a barking command behind him, but it doesn’t register in his mind until after he feels a heavy hand placed at his shoulder. 

Kyung turns, blinks up at a police officer who has stopped him, feels his blood go cold. All his senses come back to him in a sudden shock, electrifying him with panic. It hits him a few moments later that he’s been stopped for shoplifting, the words breaking through the fog in his mind and hitting him hard.

He sees Jiho seized up in a similar fright a few feet away and amidst the terror Kyung finds the clarity to lie. 

“I’m sorry I didn't tell you,” he announces, ignoring the words the officer is trying to speak. “I didn’t think I’d get caught.” His voice comes out trembling, more timid than he wants it, and the confusion in Jiho’s expression only chips away at his composure further. 

Kyung, jacket obviously stuffed with stolen goods, is pestered endlessly by the man. However, Jiho, who only has the several few items Kyung had handed him in a hurry, goes unchecked, in part because he seems innocent enough and Kyung’s words to him reinforce that. 

Still, the man takes them both to the police department. Jiho looks anxious, leg bouncing nervously, fingers wringing the hem of his shirt. Kyung closes his eyes, tries to convince himself they can find their way out of this. Jiho always said they’d be okay. 

They get a stern talking to once they’re there. Kyung waits impatiently for the inevitable. 

Eventually, after a long talking to, they come to a decision. “We’re going to call your parents,” They tell Kyung. They ignore Jiho, maybe believing that he’s done nothing.

The phone rings. Kyung knows it could be much worse, but the ringing sets him on edge. This is everything he’s been trying to avoid, now coming crashing down on him, and it’s his fault. All that time spent in the past scolding Jiho and the rest of the boys has come to this fruitless conclusion all because of not them, but himself. He’s a hypocrite. The blame is to none other but himself that everything has come undone so suddenly.

In a sense, this was bound to happen, and Kyung had known it from the start. Yet no one expects it to happen so quickly, without any warning. No matter how close to demise, one would always think they could get just barely closer, that next time when the stakes are fractionally higher, they’ll quit. It always _feels_ easy to anticipate the exact moment of failure, but in reality, it comes without warning and Kyung is seeing it now. 

It’s his fault.

His parents are going to meet his boyfriend here, at the police department, with the threat of probation over his head and an array of stolen makeup laid out before him. 

He bites hard into his lower lip, tastes blood from all the nervous chewing. He can’t bear to look at Jiho. 

Someone answers the phone. Kyung holds his breath. 

His parents are going to meet his boyfriend. They’re going to find everything out. 

His parents are going to meet his boyfriend and he’s dead. 

Light headed with panic, a surge of unreasonable thoughts flood his mind. All he can think is of the numerous ways things can go wrong. He watches the officer talk on the phone for some time, unable to make any of the conversation out, and watches the phone click back into place.

“You too, you’re in trouble.”

The police officer has his gaze set on Jiho, who until now, has sat very silently and very still in anticipation of whatever would come next. 

Jiho opens his mouth to speak, but then the phone rings, and the man turns to get it. 

Kyung feels out of breath. Desperate to keep Jiho out of trouble, he kicks the older boy’s leg, hisses in a harsh whisper, “Give me the rest.” 

Jiho holds Kyung’s gaze for only a fraction of a second before responding without question, because his trust in Kyung outweighs any logic. Accustomed to living on impulse and on acting fast, Jiho doesn’t hesitate to plunge his hands into his pockets to retrieve the makeup and dump it into Kyung’s waiting hands. 

Kyung shoves everything into the pocket of the jacket he’s wearing and quickly replaces his hands at his lap before the officer has even turned again. 

When they search Jiho’s pockets they find nothing. Somehow the relief in that overpowers the prior nervousness Kyung had been dwelling on in regards to his parents finding out soon.

The police officer offers Jiho a phone call, “You need to call your parents, go ahead.” 

Jiho sits up and shakes his head, “Not my parents, but I still wanna call, if that’s alright.” 

Kyung watches Jiho at the phone and then the door of the building in an alternating pattern. He catches bits and pieces of the conversation at the phone, and ends up guessing Jiho is talking to one of the boys.

“No, no, I think we’re okay. I mean, I’m okay, I’m worried about Kyungie. But don’t worry we’re okay, no body hurt us.”

During the moment in which Kyung is watching Jiho, he hears the door open, and turns so fast that he’s sure he must be hallucinating from the dizziness.

“Kyung, what have you done?”

Relief and then guilt crash into him, but mostly relief. His sister has once again come to his rescue, and his debt to her further piles.

“I’m sorry,” is all he can manage, curling in on himself in shame, a feeling he is certain he would not have felt had his parents come to retrieve him. 

The officer and his sister speak for a while. Kyung nervously swings his legs, wanting so badly to hold Jiho’s hand for comfort when he returns to sitting beside him. 

For the most part, everything has been resolved. Another narrowly avoided catastrophe that should be nothing but a lesson to them. Kyung thinks distractedly of how this is a lucky happening, because the scare has resulted in nothing dangerous as it could have, and if anything, they have benefitted in a new lesson learned. Not that it will do much to deter them from repeating mistakes in an insane, stubborn fashion, but Kyung really thinks that this is some sort of warning, a last chance, perhaps. Maybe it’s not too late to go back.

They walk out in tense silence, Jiho a few hesitant steps away from Kyung and his sister. 

She watches him from the corner of her eye but doesn’t ask about who he is. 

Jiho has Seunghoon waiting for him in his car a few parking spots away from Kyung’s sister’s car. Before leaving, Jiho stands awkwardly before Kyung. There’s a moment of silence before he speaks.

“I’ll see you around school, I guess.” Kyung knows that isn’t true.

When they get in the car, his sister starts asking. Kyung knows he shouldn’t be upset by it. If anything, he should be thankful it isn’t any worse. 

“Who was that boy?”  
“A friend.”  
“Is he why you’ve been acting like this?” 

Kyung shakes his head immediately. He can’t have his sister thinking his boyfriend is a bad influence, that’s a bad first impression, even if she doesn’t know the extent of the older boy’s importance in his life. 

“No, it’s not him, he didn’t do anything wrong,” Kyung tells, taking the blame entirely on himself as he continues lying, “I told him I just wanted to walk around, it was all me. I was frustrated with stuff, so I thought I could take it out this way.”

She seems skeptical of the story, but has no basis to push further. 

Kyung thinks he’s off the hook, but then amidst a long silence she speaks again.

“Have I seen him before?” 

Kyung shakes his head slowly. 

“The pictures you said you found after that trip for your club,” she recalls slowly.

He forces himself to sound steady as possible, but his tone still comes a pitch too high, “No, that guy looked nothing like him.”

She seems tense. But again, she doesn’t push.

The adrenaline has cleared from Kyung’s system when they get home and he walks in to find his parents peering at him from the living room. He feels grateful that he’s avoided their wrath, immensely relieved that they won’t ever have to know what he’s done. And most importantly, even if his sister is aware of Jiho’s existence now, it definitely is nowhere near as bad as if they had known. He’s certain that had they known of Jiho, they would have investigated his relation to Kyung ceaselessly, until having found the extent of their “friendship”. They didn’t trust boys like Jiho and in the end they’d think themselves right for thinking so poorly of him in the first place. 

No greeting, no questions of where he’s been. They instead ask, “Where did you get that jacket.”

Kyung looks down at himself. _Fuck._

Jiho’s jacket.

“I—” He can’t possibly tell them it’s new, that he’s bought it of his own accord. It’s worn and obviously so. And to think, he had been so close to getting away unscathed.

They’re up then, walking towards him. Kyung wills himself to remain there, refusing to cower and shrink away no matter how afraid he is. 

“Give it to me.”

Kyung freezes. Already an endless stream of lies, of stories to tell until he’s home free, begin to cloud his thinking in a chaotic flurry. He tries to contain the panic, heart pounding away at his chest, hammering at his temple in the form of a quickened, throbbing pulse and his eyes watering just barely. 

And then he says firmly: “No.”

There are no lies he can feed them now.

“Kyung, don’t defy me.” 

Kyung watches, posture rigid, mind set on his refusal. “No.” 

His father steps closer. Kyung feels his sister’s hand come to his arm, her voice wavering, “Kyung, just give it to them.”

Kyung hesitates before pulling his arm away from her. But, he complies, shrugging the jacket off and holding it out to his parents. 

“It’s heavy.”

 _Pockets_ , Kyung thinks, and they must think the same, because his mother’s hand goes directly there to find what weighs it down. 

Lipstick, one of them red and opened, and wipes. Admittedly, it looks bad.

“What the hell is this?” Kyung steps back, giving into his fear now. 

“I can explain,” Kyung tries, wanting to buy time. But he can’t, there’s nothing to explain. 

His father raises his voice and Kyung is afraid. 

He had always imagined how this day would come to him, but never could it have prepared him for the debilitating terror that grips him now. All his usual clarity, the cleverness, vanishes from his reach in that moment, rendering him immobilized, helpless to whatever they assume.

“Why do you have these?”

And they assume, because he’s so obviously guilty, the worst that they can fathom. 

“Kyung, we’ve dealt with your attitude for months and you repay us like _this_ ,” His mother says, sounding bewildered and hurt. So, so hurt. “Kyung, we didn’t raise you to be like this.”

And then it comes, the worst, “We won’t accept this type of behavior, we don’t accept those type of people.”

Kyung holds his breath, wishing he could find some way to answer. They become increasingly angry. His sister tries to cut in, but they shout louder, drown her out. 

They call him all the words his classmates have berated him with for months. They tell him he’s disgusting for being that way, if even in the slightest. They tell him he’s a disappointment, that they can’t have anyone else knowing of this. All because of some makeup. All because of the implication that it’s his, that he’s used it. 

They’re so angry. Kyung can’t understand, all the shouting becomes incoherent, turned to shrill static by the horror of what’s come to him. 

He’s imagined it time and time again but it is so much worse. They don’t even _really_ know. If the implication alone can upset them so much, what would come of him if they were to know of all the things he’s done, of how he’s been with Jiho? 

He goes between looking at each face, stepping away, feeling a grip on his arm tighten and pull him closer. 

And he truthfully doesn’t even realize he’s crying until they tell him to stop, because it’s weak and feminine and because they don’t want a gay son who cries like a girl. And if he could, he’d stop, and he’d apologize, he swears by it. 

It all happens fast. They want him to stop trying to argue, and when he tries to speak again, someone hits him. 

He pulls away and catches sight of his sister interjecting again, but doesn’t wait to see what comes of it, immediately disappearing out the door and running down the street.

By the time he finds a bus stop, he’s stopped crying, but his lungs feel a cold burning from the freezing air and the running and the heavy panting between it all. Still shaken, he spends an annoyingly long time finding change in his pocket and counts it with trembling hands. 

He gets off a stop too early, the anxiety making him jittery and turning his mind fuzzy. So, he walks an extra block in the cold.

Standing outside of Jiho’s door, he thinks of how badly he needs the older boy to be there. But after several minutes of knocking and of waiting and then of knocking and waiting again, he’s only disheartened further. 

Having the key on hand, he gets inside himself, locking the door behind himself and heading straight for the bed, lights left untouched. 

And there he curls up under the covers, closing his eyes tight and trying not to let the words consume him. But he’s afraid and alone and it’s terrifying. 

In the silence, now relatively safe and engulfed in the warm darkness of Jiho’s room under his blankets, the terror of it revisits him. He thinks about the future and how it’s all ruined and then the sniffling starts again, tears rolling down his face.

It being his own fault makes it all so much worse. If only he’d just be _normal_ , then none of this would ever have happened. He despises himself more than anything else, wishing he could have stayed away from Jiho. In that sense, Kyung thinks of how it’s all really Jiho’s fault. It’s Jiho who drives him insane, makes his mind lose all clarity. Jiho has made him an outcast, Jiho’s taken _everything_ from him because Kyung has been so generous in giving it all away. He’s given his patience and his safety— and torn out his heart, with bloodied rope dangling from it still from how abruptly he’s wrenched it from within the cavity of his chest— and he’s given that to Jiho and he’s given his love and love and love and love. All for this. 

He hates Jiho. It’s all Jiho’s fault. 

“Kyungie?”

Oh, but he loves Jiho.

It’s doesn’t take long until Jiho comes home. He hears the click of the light switch in the living room and a bewildered, choked sound from Jiho before the older boy comes over, hand on Kyung’s back. 

Kyung peeks out from under the covers, sniffling and bringing up a hand to wipe at his face. 

“What happened?” The worry in Jiho’s voice makes Kyung want to break into tears again. 

Jiho leans close, sitting on the edge of the bed, eyebrows furrowed. Kyung whispers almost inaudibly, “Jiho, I’m afraid.”

Jiho leans closer, their faces very near. Only the yellow light from the living room shines on them, illuminating half of Jiho’s face in a glossy sheen of light. Even then, Kyung can see the concern written across his face clearly. “Kyungie, what happened?” 

“My parents know.”

The older boy finds Kyung’s hand under the covers and holds on, asking slowly out of still apparent confusion, “About the shoplifting?”

Kyung holds his breath and shakes his head. He squeezes Jiho’s hand tight and looks away. “No.”

Jiho looks panicked in his state of unknowing. Kyung’s heart twist painfully at the reoccurrence of the thought that Jiho loves him so dearly. And for that he’s given up everything.

“I think they know I’m gay.”

Jiho’s grip on Kyung’s hand tightens and an experienced fear makes him choke out an undistinguishable sound, words garbled amidst the revisiting trauma. Jiho pulls Kyung up, startling him, but only briefly before he’s being hugged to Jiho’s chest. 

His voice breaks when he whispers, “Kyungie, no, they can’t. Kyung, please.” Kyung only shakes his head, still pressed close to the older boy. In Jiho’s voice he thinks he hears his own fears echoed, a mirror of his pain. He thinks bitterly of how Jiho has become his other half, that they’ve collided and lost their individuality to turning intertwined, but it is so nice to be tangled in one another like this. Kyung doesn’t want to be alone.

“I’m sorry Kyung,” Jiho says against Kyung’s hair, and the younger boy realizes then that Jiho is crying. Kyung closes his eyes and holds tight onto Jiho, feeling the way the older boy tremors, shaken by the same grief. Kyung can’t help it either when the tears start again, and he can’t find reason to feel shameful of it this once. 

Kyung sobs nearly all night and Jiho strokes his hair, saying nothing at all. There’s nothing he could say to fix things, and he knows it too well. Kyung holds onto Jiho, face pressed still against him so that it’s too warm around him and he can barely breathe between that and all the crying. 

The following day, Kyung wakes up still tangled in Jiho’s arms, still in the clothes he had been wearing the prior day. He feels exhausted still, body drained of all energy from all the hurting and the stress. Painfully aware of how everything had fallen apart the night before, Kyung turns over to face Jiho and huddles closer to him even though it’s too hot under the blanket. 

He wants to forget. 

Fingers brush his cheek. Jiho is awake too. 

He doesn’t go to school that day, or the next. With nowhere else to go, he sticks close to Jiho.

“Jiho, I don’t want to think about it,” Kyung requests, voice hoarse and broken.

Kyung would have been content with cuddling into Jiho’s side on the couch for however long the older boy would allow, but instead Jiho insists they go out. Kyung feels too shaken to get up, but Jiho practically begs him, tugging his arm and whining until Kyung reluctantly follows.

Jiho brushes Kyung’s hair even though Kyung weakly argues that it doesn’t matter, he doesn’t care if it looks bad. Jiho combs out the knots anyway, and parts it neatly, fingers gentle and ghosting across his forehead for a moment too long as he stares at their reflection in the mirror. Kyung looks up too, but then immediately casts his gaze away from it. He and Jiho can’t be together like this without being afraid, and seeing their reflection reminds him of that. 

They spend the day together. Jiho makes Kyung run pointless errands with him, skips work to walk him along the beach, takes him to eat. Kyung feels as if his head were submerged under water, body heavy like lead and sound coming to him muffled, always out of earshot. He thinks that when he drags his fingers through the air to point at a cloud overhead, there's resistance, as if it were glutinous smog that he had run his hand through. 

When the sun goes to rest, the blue overhead turns to a melting palette, purple forming from pinks and yellows and blues that mix and muddle. Kyung looks back at Jiho, thinks he sees him blur and melt too. 

He’s so tired. 

They’re driving back to Jiho’s home, lights beyond the window becoming hazy blurs of color in Kyung’ s vision. They stretch and bleed, making mosaics that he can’t quite decipher. 

“Kyung, will you go back?” 

Hearing that, Kyung doesn’t turn to look at Jiho. He remains fixated on the passing lights outside. He’s so tired.

“I will.”

Jiho sighs. Kyung stops watching the lights to instead rest his face against the cool glass, those same lights now dyeing his cheek in a faint glow of red, then green. 

Eyes closed, Kyung takes a deep breath, tries to explain, “I don’t know what else to do. They might be reasoned with. I don’t know.” 

There’s a tense silence, and then Jiho asks quietly, “What if they can’t?”

“I don’t know”

Maybe the right decision would come to him as an impulse, and he’d act on it, finally, after so long of being absolutely exhausted. He’s so, so tired. Weary for too long, he’d give into the first thought, tired of rationalities. So, so tired. 

Maybe he does know. 

Kyung settles himself between Jiho’s bent knees on the couch, resting his head on the older boy’s arm and sighing softly when he feels Jiho’s other hand come up to tangle into his hair. He drifts off to sleep before long.

He wakes up and being alive doesn’t feel real. When Jiho goes to work, Kyung entertains himself with morbid thoughts. He thinks about how his family are then, what they might be doing, if they care where he is. He thinks that maybe they’re happier this way, because admittedly, he _has_ been a nuisance for the past year. He’s been unbelievably horrid these past months, plainly unbearable. So maybe it’s better this way.

Truthfully, Kyung knows if he were to go back home now, he could be composed enough now to talk them out of their unhappiness. They don’t really know. He’s sure it wouldn’t be so hard, that he could lie and lie until they felt secure again. He knows that all to be very doable. 

But he’s tired.

And he’d rather be here, thinking of other ways out of all the misery.

Because if not now then eventually. He might stave them from seeking the truth now, but for how long? How long would he keep lying and hiding before they’d inevitably find the truth? So, maybe not now, but eventually, they’d be certain in knowing Kyung was exactly how they feared him to be. 

Jiho comes home early and Kyung wonders why. But he doesn’t ask, he’s too tired. So, he lets Jiho pet his face with soft hands and he closes his eyes when the older boy murmurs soothing promises and comforts and _I love you_ ’s.

They’re going on the third day of Kyung having run away when Jiho drags Kyung along with him and Seunghoon and Jinwoo for dinner. Kyung doesn’t eat, he doesn’t much lately. Jiho worriedly dotes, tries to offer Kyung his own food, only succeeding in making Kyung take a half-hearted bite to please him.

Seunghoon shifts uncomfortably. He must know too, Kyung thinks. The older man looks so awkward, again like Kyung is fragile. But hasn’t he proven himself to them yet? He’s given away everything for boys like Jiho. He is one of them, through and through, and this is his last marking of that. He’s an outcast.

It’s getting dark when they’re getting ready to leave. Seunghoon leans across the table, looking rather serious. He’s lost the usual jaunty boldness that had made him the vivid, reckless man Kyung once knew him as. He’s changed too, just minutely, but has surely changed. Through the cracks Kyung sees a different man, and he thinks maybe this is the man that had once been when Nam Taehyun had passed, and he thinks, is this a precursor to their unavoidable demise too? Is this a sign, a symptom of the same? Maybe Kyung’s dying too. It feels a lot like it.

“You need anything, just come by,” he says, and then rises, patting Kyung’s head heavily once before leaving. 

It’s the end of the week that Jihoon comes to see them. Jiho answers the door, and from where he’s curled up on the sofa, Kyung can see the younger boy at the door. 

“Kyung, your parents are looking for you,” he blurts upon making eye contact.

He goes home. He’s afraid but he goes home.

Jiho drives him there and they sit in the car for a long while. Jiho holds out his hand for Kyung to take, and Kyung squeezes so tight he’s sure Jiho’s lost feeling in his fingers, but he doesn’t let go. 

“You’ll be okay?”  
“Yeah, I’ll be okay.”  
“Tell me when you’re okay.”

He walks numbly to his house. His parents answer the door. They look surprised to see him, as if they had never really expected him to come back.

And they don’t really apologize. But they tell him they were worried, and they see that fit enough in substitute of apology. Kyung gapes at them, somehow the ghost of anger bubbling under his skin, but he finds the self-control to remain from voicing it. 

His sister tells him of how she explained it was her things he had had in his pocket, and that they had been speechless for a moment. They had been desperate for a way to rationalize his recent acting out, she tries to justify. Kyung knows he should be grateful but he can’t even force himself to pretend that he feels that way. 

They keep saying _our son_ and _our boy_ and _our Kyung_ but Kyung can only hear their words from days before echo. Hadn’t they been so eager to reject him not too long ago?

It upsets him. He doesn’t belong to them, or at least, doesn’t want to. 

How can they expect him to act how they find fit? He doesn’t want to play the part of their perfect, soft-spoken son anymore. He wants to live and be alive and in love, he wants to be with people who love him too.

Lying in bed, he wishes he could call Jiho to tell him everything was okay. But it’s too soon to be playing with his safety again. Risking a trip downstairs for a suspicious phone call was the last thing he needed right now. 

Sleep doesn’t come to him. And the next day he goes to school even though he doesn’t want to. 

“They found him,” He hears being whispered around him. The voices come like a hum of the same phrase repeated a thousand times in unison. 

Kyung frowns, skeptical of his own guesses. But word gets around, finding its way to him and confirming his suspicions. Kyung’s disappearance had been reported to the police not long after his sister’s explanations. And rather quickly, like that, the news had reached more and more people. 

Everyone knows he had run away, but the reason why he had is left to their own imaginations. 

He’s so sick of it all. The rumors are the same every time, incessant talk of how he had tried to run away with his boyfriend spreading among his classmates. 

With each passing day, Kyung can come to understand Jiho’s frustrations too well. He can’t imagine how the older boy has dealt with it for so long, how only relatively recently has he turned to madness. Kyung can see himself easily succumbing to the same rabid insanity in no time at all, regressing to the way of animals, callously desperate for revenge. 

His sorrow turns bitter. He adopts frustration, a new short-temper, quickly angry at any threat of any of his friends being harmed, of them being taken away from him. He knows they need to stop if he wants to hang on to them all. Living like this isn’t safe, and if he wants what’s best for them, he should give up the carelessness. He should listen to his parents.

His parents want him back. He can tell how desperate they are. But not with kindness and in seek of the family relationship they had once had, instead in seek of ownership. They place new rules on him under the guise of concern, but Kyung knows what the intent really is. It gets hard to leave home so much. His parents are afraid he’ll run away again. He doesn’t care, sneaks out often anyway. He’s certain they want to assert their power over him. He begins to despise them, wanting to do anything to remind them that they can’t ever completely have ownership over his life.

Gloved hands in Jiho’s hair, Kyung wipes at the roots at the older boy’s scalp, helping him bleach it to match the rest. 

“Jiho,” Kyung starts, hands stilling. Jiho tilts his head, not able to see Kyung’s face from where he’s sat on the bathroom floor, back to the younger.

“After this, do mine too.”

 

Only four weeks later and it’s February and it’s no surprise that Kyung lets the boys drag him into another ploy for petty revenge. Someone filled Seunghoon and Jinwoo’s car’s engine with bleach, ruined it. 

And there have been no lessons learned. Kyung feels angry and ruthless, addicted to the idea of control, even if he’s not conscious of that. Wholeheartedly, with malicious intent creeping into his actions, he tells them his suggestions and they listen. Jiho’s boys become his boys and like that he rises to the center of their hierarchy. Everything always returns to Kyung; even with Jiho playing the role of some type of leader, his motives are always Kyung and nothing else, and like that, Kyung turns the focus of their universe. 

They don’t even notice.

Coming in a little later, Jiho plops down beside Kyung on the couch of their parking garage, running a hand through the younger’s thick mess of bleached white curls. Kyung practically preens, leaning into Jiho’s touch and tucking blonde locks behind one ear. 

His parents hadn’t been very happy about the hair. They’d been nearly enraged over it, demanding he dye it back, even threatening to take him to a salon. But he had stubbornly refused, and their threats proved empty as they became too busy to really take Kyung anywhere to get his hair fixed. 

Kyung knows they should stop. Their last scare looms overhead. He knows that at this rate, someone’s going to end up dead. But he can’t, and he tells himself it’s not because he agrees with the other boys, but because they didn’t listen before, so why bother now? 

So, Kyung lets it all happen, rarely objecting anymore. They won’t listen anyway. And he has nothing to lose, he thinks. Or, rather, he doesn’t mind losing it all for Jiho. All he can think lately is _Jiho_. They’re best together, Kyung thinks. 

They talk about arson. And Kyung lets it happen. He knows they’re going too far. But Jiho’s hand in his hair feels so nice and everyone has been so mean lately, what’s a few burned pieces of furniture, a few belongings, nothing serious?

Kyung turns to face Jiho, interrupting his combing through his hair, “We’re talking about burning some of the stuff of the guy who messed up Jinwoo’s car,” Kyung tells him sweetly, catching him up to the same page. Jiho smiles softly and kisses Kyung’s cheek. “Sounds good, baby.” 

They don’t put much thought into the whole thing, no longer needing to since Kyung doesn’t stop them anymore. They stick together, he rationalizes, and that Jinwoo or Seunghoon would have made the same choices had this happened to Kyung. In fact, he has in the past put himself in danger’s way for Kyung and Jiho’s sake. They’re all in this together, so Kyung thinks it would be unfair to stop this revenge.

In some ways, Kyung feels that his narrowly avoided demise at his parent’s wrath has made him only too confident, rather than setting him in place. He thinks himself invincible now, or maybe he thinks life without value. He can’t tell, he’s too intoxicated on the excitement of it. He’s too distracted by how Jiho looks, face shining in the amber glow of fire, grinning ear to ear. 

Kyung sits on the hood of Jiho’s car and waits. And when Jiho comes back to him, practically leaping with the rush of adrenaline, Kyung opens his arms to bring him in for a hug, kissing the older boy’s face. He looks so beautiful, so handsome, Kyung thinks. 

Jiho drives Kyung home early, leaving the others to put out the flames before it becomes out of hand. And, as always, Jiho lets Kyung off a street away from his home. When Kyung gets out and goes to start walking home, Jiho gestures him over, window rolled down and one arm hanging out from it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”  
Kyung nods immediately.  
“Okay, good.”

Kyung wants to lean down and kiss Jiho goodbye, but refrains from it, because even in the dark, he worries someone might see. 

As promised, he makes sure to pay Jiho a visit the next day, already grinning before Jiho has even answered the door. 

Their relationship has taken a new tenderness. Kyung finds their roles having shifted so much since when they first met. Yet, he’s content with where they are now. 

He likes moments like these, playful and teasing. Jiho has him pinned down for a minute, but he manages to wriggle his way out from under his boyfriend and flip their positions. Jiho goes instantly to run his hands up Kyung’s sides, tickling him and earning a sharp laugh and giggling pleas from Kyung. Kyung struggles to find Jiho’s hands, but he does eventually, and pushes them away to pin them against the bed by the wrists. Jiho grins up at Kyung, who is still out of breath from laughing. His sides hurt and his cheeks are sore from all the smiling and laughing. His heart feels so light. 

“Stupid,” Kyung patronizes once he's caught his breath, “Now you're stuck.” He's sure if Jiho really wanted to he could free himself. But he won't, judging from the way he lies limp and relaxed now. His hair is so much longer now, falling in a lovely crown of wispy white strands around his head and over the pillow. Jiho watches Kyung’s expression carefully and asks, “So what if I'm stuck?”

Kyung wonders if he's restricting Jiho too harshly, if his fingers are wrapped too tight around his wrists. He watches Jiho’s face and the expectant, patient gaze that he waits with. He looks in awe of Kyung, soft pink lips agape, eyes wide and transfixed to Kyung’ face. “I can do this,” Kyung answers finally, shifting one leg to slot it between Jiho’s thighs. 

Jiho practically mewls at that, and it's probably the best sound he's ever made, Kyung thinks. And he should know, he's heard a lot of sounds from Jiho. Kyung laughs and Jiho squirms, looking away as he can't bring his hands to cover his face when Kyung has them pinned by the wrists at either side of his head. The shifty, embarrassed aversion of eye contact is adorable, makes Kyung want to draw out the teasing. That and the sweet blush that blooms from the shyness make Kyung laugh fondly again. Jiho refuses to look directly at Kyung even when he leans down to kiss his cheek. When he pulls away, there's the subtle transition from shy to coyness in Jiho and he asks, “Let me go.” 

Kyung refuses, “No.”  
“Okay. You can do whatever you want with me.”

Those words, the way Jiho lies pliant, it's a dizzying combination. And most importantly, it's that those words are said in all sincerity. Kyung really can do whatever he wants. The thought makes his head spin and suddenly it's all very overwhelming so that he can't form any words. 

Unprompted Jiho tells, “Be gentle, okay?” Kyung thinks he'll go insane if Jiho keeps talking now, so he kisses him just to shut him up, yet Jiho has the audacity to laugh. 

Kyung truly can’t imagine loving anyone besides Jiho. 

He can’t imagine a life worth living without Jiho.

They’re inseparable. Fingers always woven together, always pushing and shoving in fits of laughter, always giggling through hushed whispers and scheming glances, sharing secrets that promise to go to the grave with them. 

Kyung is waiting in Jiho’s car with Jihoon sitting in the backseat, a tape Jiho has dedicated to Kyung playing much too loudly. He likes to listen to it, never gets sick of the songs, and Jihoon doesn’t complain when they restart it for the third time. Had it been any of the other boys, they’d have teased Kyung (not that he minds) and would have called the couple disgusting. 

“Kyung, you’re going to graduate soon,” Jihoon says out of the blue, causing Kyung to turn in his seat so that he can look back at the younger boy.

He tilts his head slightly. “Oh, right, I am.”

For a brief moment Jihoon looks uncertain about something, but then he continues speaking anyway, “I’ll miss you guys.”

Kyung frowns, resting his cheek on the back of his seat. “Well, we’re not going to be gone,” He starts, though Jihoon's words have already had their effect, and he feels a hollow melancholy at the unavoidable future. A lot is changing and he has yet to decide where he himself is headed after high school. He doesn’t want to think about a future without the other boys. 

Trying to muster an aloof smile, Kyung continues, “Taeil and Jaehyo are still around.” 

“I mean, I’ll miss you, Kyung.” 

The smile drops from Kyung’s lips. His heart feels heavy, lost in bittersweet love for Jihoon and all the other boys, even Seunghoon and Jinwoo. He cares for them more than he can express. 

“Maybe I’ll still be around,” Kyung tries again after a short pause, making the effort to sound unaffected. 

“I don’t know. It just feels like I’m gonna be missing you.” 

Kyung opens his mouth to speak, but he’s interrupted by the car doors being opened by Jiho and Jaehyo who has finally shown up.

Swinging the door open, Jaehyo says, “Scoot,” and Jihoon does. Jaehyo’s hand comes down to ruffle Kyung’s hair as he sits down, a smile across his face as he greets, “Hey, Kyung”. 

Jiho starts the car, throws Kyung a glance, playful grin tugging at the corner of his lips and an eyebrow quirked. Kyung’s heart jumps at that, nervous giggle bubbling up in his chest. He wishes they could hold hands, or kiss, but it’s broad daylight out and they’re not quite that stupid yet.

After a full day of messing around, they meet the rest of the boys later in the afternoon when the sky is barely turning grey. 

Kyung goes to the others, Jiho lingering behind with Jaehyo and Jihoon, caught in a teasing argument about pizza toppings. 

“Hey, kid,” Seunghoon says, lips quirked in a slight grin upon seeing Kyung. Kyung can’t help but beam back, feeling comfortable and fully in his element here surrounded by his friends.

They don’t do anything in specific, just stand around talking, at some point getting snacks from one of the stores in the plaza. They end up trying to have Yukwon catch chips in his mouth, which he does surprisingly well, in comparison to Jiho who misses every time.

“Bad throws,” Jiho argues, tone resembling of a child’s whining. 

Kyung laughs. “Excuses, you’re just bad at this.”

Overall, it’s a rare instance of their fun being relatively calm; it’s a night where they don’t cause anyone trouble. They’re minding their own business, only some could say their presence alone was troublesome enough. They’re a bit loud, and look like they’re loitering with menacing intentions, but really, they mean no harm.

Jiho goes to playfully slap at Kyung’s face in response, and Kyung sticks out his face in anticipation, eyes fluttered shut, though he knows it will be more like a pat than anything. But the tap across one cheek never comes, interrupted by a different voice.

“Are you all thinking you won’t get in trouble for the bullshit you keep pulling?”

Kyung whips his head the other way to see who has interrupted their playing, freezes in place at an unfamiliar man having approached them, several others lingering around him, enough people to match their own numbers. He looks roughly Jiho’s age, maybe older. But definitely not a face Kyung can put a name to.

Seunghoon, maintaining his careful aloofness, remains leaned against the door of his car when Kyung looks back to see his reaction. Jiho drops his arms and watches, notably more tense than Seunghoon. Jiho is reckless, fearless, sure, but has nowhere near as much experience as Seunghoon does in moments of confrontation.

Seunghoon sighs, building on his image of detached boredom, and answers with his own question, “Are you here to cause trouble, then?” 

“We want you lot to fuck off.” 

They could have avoided physical altercation, Jiho and Seunghoon’s boys are tired enough as it is with all they’ve been through lately. But then one of those people puts a hand around Jihoon’s shoulders, flicks his face tauntingly. 

And it starts there.

It’s just a meaningless squabble, they’re sure nothing will really come of it. But Kyung thinks distantly that they shouldn’t take the bait so easily, and he tries to tell Jiho that, gripping his arm and wanting to pull him back. Jiho responds with shaking Kyung away, always too hot-heated to wait for Kyung’s careful reasoning.

It feels like they’ve been getting into trouble too often lately. And Kyung is still vaguely haunted by their last mistakes.

Kyung doesn’t try to get involved, and quickly he realizes that it doesn’t take much to avoid getting picked on. In fact, he notices that none of these guys look especially vicious in their fighting. The motive is something else. 

_”Fuck._ ” 

Looking this way then that, searching wildly for Jiho, because it’s always Jiho, Kyung tries to figure out what’s happening. Something is wrong. 

He spots Jiho a little way from the others, pinned under a boy who has drawn a blade on the other.

Mouth suddenly going dry, Kyung catches himself wanting to shout, but swallows the sound in fear of wrongly drawing attention to himself. But the terror climbs like acid up his throat, claws at his skin. They never get a break from this type of fear, constantly having to be horrified at the chances of losing one another. Kyung is sure if he doesn’t die living like this, then it’ll be the stress that will get him.

Kyung can’t think of anything but to run to Jiho then, not even fully sure of what he’s going to do. He doesn’t want to have to hurt someone again, but he can, he can for Jiho, he can do anything for Jiho. Anything for him.

There’s a strangled groan, something on the edge of sounding like a scream, and then blood. Kyung sees it on Jiho’s hands, drip even across his face, but Jiho _looks_ okay. If anything, he looks confused.

Kyung turns back, then looks to Jiho again. 

And everyone has gone. It’s him and Jiho and his friends and this boy. 

And then he realizes what’s happening.

“Jiho, no, no, get away. Jiho get up.”

But they’re not fast enough, Jiho doesn’t understand Kyung’s pointless screaming soon enough. The boy hasn’t gotten off of Jiho yet, he’s still struggling.

He can’t believe he let one of them get away, if only he had been more useful and hadn’t just stood around. He could have prevented this. He should have anticipated this.

Seunghoon picks up on it quick enough to grab Yoon by his collar and drag him with him, calling the others to similarly disperse, telling them to get lost.

There’s a cacophony of wailing sirens and sharp lights in blue and red and white that emerges from every surrounding street. 

The boy has gotten off of Jiho, has dropped the knife, and is sitting back with his hands over the gash in his arm. Jiho, disoriented, pushes himself up off the ground and brings a hand to wipe at the blood that has splattered across his cheek only to draw a bolder smear of thin red from the blood that had dripped and stained his hands. 

Kyung knows he should leave like the others have, he can’t afford to get caught again, but he can only think of Jiho and how he needs to be by him. So, he runs to the other boy, gripping his arm tight when he reaches him.

Blanketed in the accusing white lights, Jiho turns to Kyung, who grips him in frozen terror. The older boy pushes him, tearing Kyung’s hands away. “Kyung, leave,” he commands, a startled look in his eyes that strikes terror to Kyung, sinking deep to the marrow of his bones and making him ache with a primal fear. 

Kyung fumbles for Jiho’s hands and when he finds them, he grips so tight that his knuckles turn white. “Jiho, I love you,” He tells in urgency, surging forward to press a hurried kiss to his boyfriend’s lips before pulling away to leave, receding into the spaces where the harsh lights can’t soak.

He stays rigid watching. When the police spot Jiho, shirt ornate with red flecks of blood, they don't seek further. Jiho already has his hands held over his head in surrender, head lowered in a submissive, frightened angle, that does nothing to soothe the suspicion Jiho has earned himself. They approach quickly and harshly turn him, yanking him by one arm and pushing him against the side of their car. The red and blue lights take turns illuminating Jiho’s face, the sharp colors highlighting the panicked state of Jiho’s mind as he undoubtedly searches in desperation for a way out of this. The severity of it sinks in when there's a rusty click of handcuffs closing around Jiho’s wrists, bounding him and turning him helpless. 

Kyung backs away slowly, watching the police’s shadows move like black cut outs against the red and blue lit walls. Then he turns and goes to the other boys, a steely cold setting deep in him.

Jaehyo, having hidden similarly, puts a hand at Kyung’s shoulder, “What do we do?” The boys watch him expectantly, as if he were some superior to them. 

Sole owner of logic during their times without clarity, the king of direction during their times of ignorance, Kyung reigns over them as a source of leadership. He can deny it indefinitely, pretend to not know it, but that power is surely kept well under his foot. 

“Get them,” Kyung answers, tone devoid of any indicator of how he might feel. Numb. 

Everyone watches on with owlish eyes, peering from the darkness at Kyung with confusion. Kyung, their beacon of morality and their constant marker of limitations, has led them into the abyss. This symbol of purity, the angelic boy from outside their own kind, has turned to the wolves too. 

“It's their fault, don't let them go,” Kyung clarifies, words spit out thick and vicious, as if they were blood and saliva stirred deep in his throat. 

There's a moment's hesitance, a brief opening of time where they await Kyung to take it back. They want Kyung to be reborn as the figure of innocence they knew, as someone who should cry at this moment and reassure every one of the humanity that is still inherent in who they are. But instead there's a vacant figure there, waiting expectantly for revenge to be dropped limp at his feet like a hound might bring a fox back in desperation to end the hunt. 

So, they turn away and do as told, because when there is no Jiho, they have no order among themselves but Kyung. In fact, Kyung has always been the most central position of their hierarchy, the gravitational pull of Jiho, and with him all else. 

Kyung watches them turn, cautiously heading away. When he looks to his own hands, they’re shaking. But he doesn’t feel afraid. For once in his life, for the first time in this seemingly endless struggle, he’s not tainted by even the slightest hint of fear. He’s livid, a burning passion for revenge born in him. He has fostered the same venomous thirst for violence as Jiho, wanting to drink their pain deep and selfishly, because they want to take what they cannot have. How _dare_ they try and take Jiho away from Kyung. 

He starts in their direction, halting at the sound of a voice. Seunghoon.

“Kyung, where is everyone?” 

Kyung doesn’t turn, He closes his hands around nothing, fingers curled into tight fists at his sides and bottom lip drawn between his teeth, taste of metallic blood brought to his tongue. “They’ve gone to make things fair.”

He hears Seunghoon’s steps, knows he’s approaching before the hand is even on his shoulder. “What did you do, where’s Jiho?” 

Kyung inhales sharply. He turns to look at Seunghoon then, straining to keep his voice level when he spits in answer, “They took him.” Seunghoon shakes his head, brows furrowed. He doesn’t understand.

So much has changed. Kyung has given up everything for Jiho, he’s been torn apart and reformed under the pressure of this love, and for that to conclude in their taking Jiho away from him is cruel. It’s not fair. 

“They can’t just take him, Seunghoon. They can’t just take him away from me, he’s all I have,” As he speaks, the desperation fills his words and wounds are born fresh again. The anger drips into his voice, seethes from his every sentence. “I gave it all away for him, they can’t take him. They can’t. They have to know it hurts, Jiho is my everything.” 

Seunghoon lets Kyung go and shakes his head again. “Where did everyone else go?” 

“You can’t stop me,” Kyung insists, turning to leave again. 

There’s a tense moment of silence, a deep sigh, then Seunghoon’s voice states evenly, “If I can’t, then I won’t bother trying,” Kyung stops mid-step, “What are we doing?”

“I... I don’t know yet. Just—we can’t let them go.”

Seunghoon frowns. “We should wait here, for when the boys come back to regroup.”

They take a while of searching, avoiding the police as they do. Kyung’s devotion to the cause should have made him the candidate for who would go and find those people first, but it ends up being Taeil and Yukwon who come back.

Yukwon has his fist closed around the collar of a young boy, literally dragging him along the hard asphalt as Taeil follows behind. The boy starts up screaming again for what Kyung presumes is not the first time, but Taeil shuts him up with a swift kick to the ribs. 

They hold him down until everyone has regrouped. Kyung silently dwells on the rage eating away at him, letting it mask the worry he has for Jiho.

Everyone gathers around, peering curiously at the single boy they were able to retrieve. They wait anxiously for Kyung to do something

“What do you want?” 

Kyung looks to Seunghoon. And then back to the boy. He reaches into his pocket, takes the switchblade Jiho had given him months ago. To think, once he had been so opposed to even the idea of carrying it with himself.

“Make things even,” Kyung answers coldly.

He thinks of being first beaten in the parking lot of his high school over a year ago. He thinks of Jiho being stabbed, he thinks of how Jaehyo had had his arm broken. He thinks of Jiho being beaten time and time again. He remembers all the rumors, he remembers Jiho in the hospital and how scary it was. And he thinks of the burning marking across his shoulder. He thinks of their suffering.

The boy starts sobbing. Yukwon approaches to kick him again. Between that and Kyung’s holding the blade, the anticipation is stifling.

Kyung watches the boy lying on the ground below him He can’t describe this feeling, but if he lets the rage recede, that will give way to what he does not want to face yet. How will he survive knowing Jiho is gone? 

“Kyung, this isn’t right,” Jihoon’s voice breaks the tense silence, sounding shaken and afraid. Kyung looks up. “Not you, at least. You shouldn’t.”

Kyung expects himself to be angry, but he can’t be. Not at his own friends, not with Jihoon. He drops his arm and looks back at the boy below him. 

Seunghoon offers slowly, voice still steady despite the gravity of the situation, “I can do it.” And Kyung knows he will. To Seunghoon, this isn’t really anything too severe. Kyung doesn’t really know anything about Seunghoon in terms of this, he has no idea how far Seunghoon has gone in his ruthlessness. If Kyung allows it, Seunghoon will easily do what he himself shouldn’t. 

Kyung shakes his head.

It is so difficult to say, but eventually he mutters sourly, “Just forget it.” 

They let the boy ago and he scrambles up, wincing in pain. For maybe less than a second, h.e stands and stares at Kyung, but the moment is so brief that Kyung can barely register it or the meaning of it. And then he’s running away without another word.

Kyung drops to his knees. He is so, _so_ tired.

There was control in his hands.

For once in his life he had taken liberty of what had come to him, had made himself the opportunity for options, for decisions. And now the autonomy over his own life which had so scarcely ever been in his own grasp was once again lost. 

He feels ridiculous once the tears start. It feels like that’s all he can ever do, cry pathetically at every adversity. It turns him so helpless, fills him with a stinging self-hatred. But he can’t stop it, breathing uneven and sobs shaking his body, seizing him with the tremendous anger and devastation. 

He could have done it. He isn’t sure if it would have satisfied the desire for control and for revenge, but now he can’t ever know. 

And now Jiho is gone. 

He can’t imagine a life worth living without Jiho.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been busy but I appreciate every comment so, so much! I ended up rereading them to get motivation back haha. Anyways, hope you're all doing well!!


	17. NGC 6565

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“We’re absolutely going to die!” Laughter. Other words exchanged, a slap on the back, an arm accidentally punched too hard. Orange light illuminates faces, an open fire licks at the sky, a moth flies too near. Kyung never wants to go home._

Coal black hair and a smile dug deep in plush cheeks, turned blurry and lost in a delirious laughter. Glimmering rings in one ear, wispy black strands obscuring eyes squinting with joy. 

Secret glances stolen away in passing moments. Apprehensive touching, fingertips grazing, brushing. Hands held in secret under tables. 

Someone he has hated and someone that he has loved. Both the same. Both his. 

Kyung cradles the phone in his hands, waiting desperately for it to ring. From across the room Jinwoo peers at him cautiously as Seunghoon draws alcohol drenched swabs across a cut above one brow. 

Without Jiho, what is left? 

He knew this was coming. Kyung feels that familiar frustration overcome him, the desire to blame everyone but himself. From the start he’s known that what they were doing was wrong, he’s always known that they would end up losing one way or another.

In the past, he has hated Jiho for his stupidity. But now, why can’t he feel the same? It is Jiho who has led them here, and yet, Kyung cannot find the resolve to blame the older boy. It can’t have been Jiho’s doing, in Kyung’s eyes, in the face of all that they’ve been dealt, Jiho is faultless. 

If they had stayed quiet, had let the hardship come to them and had responded passively, they wouldn’t be in this mess. If Jiho had never wanted to prove himself, if he had never wanted revenge and justice and all things righteous, then they would be at the very least together now, even if not safely. 

There lay Jiho’s error. He had been wrong to seek fairness, or to want to create it. No matter what, in the end they would always be the ones suffering. They were dealt a bad hand. It was not their fault, and very much out of their control. 

Kyung knows it is Jiho’s fault but he doesn’t want it to be. He wants to be upset, too. If only they hadn’t ever been in love, he thinks. 

He can’t imagine a life without Jiho. In the short time that he’s known Jiho, somehow his entire existence has been realigned by Jiho. Jiho is the center of his universe, the sun and the moon, every star they had seen overhead that night months ago, when Kyung had wished to run away.

If Jiho hadn’t been so stupid, hadn’t let things escalate as such, they wouldn’t be here. If Jiho hadn’t been so blind in his obsession for justice, Kyung wouldn’t be alone now. He wouldn’t be wishing so badly for a way out of having to live without Jiho by his side.

“What will I do without Jiho?”

No one responds. The phone has yet to ring.

The knees of his jeans are soaked in filthy rain water. His hands won’t stop shaking. But he isn’t afraid. Not this time, not anymore. Jiho has taken fear from him and turned it to too much else that he cannot comprehend. 

He could have had them know how it hurts now to be without Jiho. But then, wouldn’t he be feeding the cycle that Jiho had birthed? Again and again they would try to acquire their desired revenge only to be fed the same vicious fate shortly after.

And Kyung thinks now he won’t ever know the flavor of revenge.

But he knows he is tired of wanting it, tired of losing to it. Now feels like a good time to go back. Or it would, if he had Jiho with him. Without Jiho, nothing feels worth the effort.

“What will I do without Jiho?” He repeats it, louder now. 

Seunghoon looks to him now, expression unreadable, not that Kyung is looking back. He is too busy watching the phone.

“Kid, I know it’s tough, but you’ll be alright,” Seunghoon offers.

Kyung lifts his head fractionally. “No, I won’t. I don’t know where to go if Jiho isn’t there.”

A pause, albeit brief, that says multitudes on the exasperation of Seunghoon. “You go home.”

Kyung looks back then.

“You go home and don’t come back. None of this was right for you anyway, you should’ve gone back home that night after they nearly killed Jiho. That mark on your shoulder was warning enough. So, you go home now and you pretend Jiho never existed.” 

Kyung wonders if Seunghoon has ever thought Jiho were better off dead, too. Kyung had thought it a lot. Now he thinks maybe he himself is better off dead. 

“I can’t do that.”

In frustration, there is a rare appearance of a short-temper from Seunghoon as he slams one hand on the kitchen counter and rises. Jinwoo doesn’t so much as bat an eye.

“What’s so good about that son of a bitch? He hasn’t done anything but ruin your life.”

Kyung looks at the phone in his lap. He loses his courage for a moment, Seunghoon’s tone and the rare loss of temper scaring him into a brief silence. Even when he does speak eventually, he’s surprised to find his own voice wavering, coming out a timid squeak, “He’s my best friend.” 

Seunghoon groans, sounding incredibly frustrated. 

Kyung whispers, “I’m sorry.” 

He had never meant to become so bothersome. He’s sure Seunghoon has better things to do than babysit a child like himself. He’s terribly sorry for having let things come to this point. 

Kyung thinks about cigarettes and about burning. He thinks about how badly he would like to have one now. He thinks of how he’s felt burning and how it hurt but he still wouldn’t mind to have that consume him entirely if it meant not having to feel this way. His fingers twitch, hands itching to have a smoke, something to preoccupy his mind. 

They sit in silence for the rest of the night. Kyung knows his parents will be so, so angry when he goes home eventually. Maybe it’ll be at 4 AM that he’ll show up at the front door, shivering and cold and barely in one piece. Or it might be the following day in the afternoon that he’ll slip in, looking disheveled and disoriented but at the very least, alive. And they’ll shout at him but he won’t even care, the words will barely reach him.

Hours go by. It goes past midnight, then past morning. Jinwoo and Seunghoon go to bed, not needing to give Kyung permission to stay.

Kyung wishes he didn’t have to feel this way any longer. What value is in living without Jiho?

He sits alone by the phone until the sun is rising. He dozes off sometimes, jolting awake sometimes when struck by lucid hauntings of the fate that awaits Jiho.

He doesn’t eat. He can’t, not when he’s full on the unfurling leaves of anxiety rooted deep in the pit of his stomach. 

It hurts to be without Jiho. He’s become tired of always being afraid. The hours go by. 

And Kyung thinks, this cannot be the end. They always survive. The end has been coming and has been on its journey for too long for it to amount to this. This is too quiet. 

They must die with passion and with red and with dramatism unparalleled. 

The phone call comes and Kyung is ready, fingers pressing the button harshly, hurriedly. A voice comes, undeniably Jiho’s, shaken and hoarse, words distorted and unclear. 

Kyung holds the phone close to his face with shaking hands. Again, as he has become often in his short history with Jiho, he turns choked with emotion and overcome with the need to sob. 

“Jiho, Jiho, baby.”

There’s a moment where their voices overlap, becoming unintelligible babbling. 

Kyung pauses only to hear Jiho cautiously venture, “Kyungie?”

And then he answers, the watery, near-tears state of himself very evident in his wavering voice, “Yes, Jiho, baby, I’m here. I’m here for you.” 

Jiho’s voice comes just as worried, riddled with stress and tiredness, “Kyungie, why aren’t you home?”

Kyung’s heart twists, convulses painfully. Now is not the time to worry about him, of all people. Kyung grips the phone tighter and shakes his head. 

“Jiho, it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter at all. What’s going on? You’re coming back to me, right?”

There’s a short, very brief pause that is enough to send another spike of panic across Kyung’s nerves, so he prompts again, desperately wanting Jiho’s return, “You’re coming home, right? You’re going to come back to me?” 

_Come back to me, please_ , Kyung thinks desperately, begging the stars that he is certain are sitting above him, hidden behind the ceiling. Yet again he puts his faith there, placing his despair and his hope with the divine energy of some interstellar force.

Jiho must come home to him, he needs to. Kyung can’t live without him, he cannot imagine a life worth living without Jiho present in it. His moon, the stars, he could easily be that celestial being that Kyung looks to as acceptor of prayers so often. 

“Yes, yeah, I need to talk to Seunghoon. I need someone to come get me.” 

Still so nervous, for reasons he’s not sure why, Kyung clings to the phone longer to keep asking, “How’d they let you go? What happened?”

“Kyungie, I have to hang up soon, give the phone to Seunghoon.” 

The commotion having brought both Jinwoo and Seunghoon near, there is no more delay in passing the phone over. Reluctantly, Kyung hands the phone into Seunghoon’s waiting hands, refusing to move away. Instead he gets closer yet so that he can listen in on the call.

Twenty-two hours. He’s waited twenty-two hours for this. And he’s counted it right, he’s watched the clock very closely. 

He insists that Seunghoon take him, following the older man all the way out to his car. 

When Seunghoon becomes deaf to the pleading, Kyung instead challenges, “You can’t make me walk back home alone, what if someone comes back to hurt me?” 

Seunghoon unlocks the car and sighs, clearly irked by Kyung’s persistence and his methods of underhanded manipulation. All he says then is, “How does Jiho deal with you?” And Kyung knows he’s won, grinning triumphantly and going to the passenger seat.

The drive out is tense. Seunghoon doesn’t talk, he seems deep in thought. Kyung wonders if he has been here before, if he has ever had to go this trip for the sake of one of his boys in the past. Or, it might be easier to believe Seunghoon being the one who had once had to await someone to come find him in holding. Yet, Kyung cannot imagine Seunghoon being one to get caught, he seems invincible, untouched by calamity. 

That might be dangerous thinking, a type of confidence that spreads and grows into cocky stupidity. Arrogance like that gets people killed. 

Seunghoon doesn’t let Kyung go inside with him. He hands him the cars keys and instructs him to sit inside the car with the doors locked.

Once Seunghoon disappears inside the building, Kyung gets out of the car and sits on the hood, key held in one curled fist, ridges of it like teeth digging into the soft flesh of his palm, leaving red indentations. 

They’ve gone through so much. Kyung is tired. They’ve been subjected to ever known pain, he thinks. He’s not sure if there is any way to feel the suffering more boldly than how he feels it now. It has collected and become a constant headache, misery turning him numb to how intense the wounds are.

Yet, he truly cannot imagine a life without Jiho. They have fought endlessly in the past year, constantly opposing one another’s methods. And Jiho has made Kyung suffer, he is the sole reason for all the hardship Kyung has faced. However, despite it all, Kyung loves him so, so dearly; he can’t fathom a life without Jiho. 

Because with bad times there have been good times. There has been none other to understand him, no one else who he would want to talk to for hours on end. He trusts no one like he trusts Jiho, wants to be with no one else in the way he does with Jiho. They have fought and they have hurt one another but Jiho is his best friend. Beneath all the pretending that they are grown, that they can handle all this violence, they are still only two kids. There is still the fading fingerprints of innocence and youth in their relationship, still the pure moments that made them love one another. 

The doors finally swing open. It takes so long, and it is so cold. Kyung is tired, he thinks he could fall asleep there on the hood of the car. 

But, Jiho. _Jiho, Jiho, Jiho._

He tumbles off from where he had been sitting, nearly crashing to the ground in his hurry to get to Jiho. He doesn’t ask anything, doesn’t care, all he wants is to have Jiho.

Kyung catches him in a tight hug. Jiho’s arms are immediately around him, holding him close and warm, so warm, so that the last hours of freezing fingers and cold bitten face are forgotten. 

“Jiho, I was so afraid,” Kyung blurts against his chest, pressing himself somehow closer. He squeezes his eyes shut and he hears the faint rhythm of Jiho’s heart. He wants to be held this way forever. “I thought they were going to take you away.” 

He thinks Jiho might laugh at him for the way his voice breaks, but he sounds similarly hurt, mumbling Kyung’s name softly against his hair. It scares Kyung how real that means this is, how Jiho must have been afraid too. There’s no more light-hearted teasing. This is real.

When eventually Kyung pulls away, he looks to Jiho’s face and frowns. Jiho looks bad.

It is an accumulated tiredness that makes his face hollow, cheeks not so full as they had once been, and sickly grey circles ghosting under his eyes. There is old violence written across his face, white lines of healing cuts and scrapes, and then there is evidence of recent hurting, a split lip that makes his chin caked with blood too, and swelling along one side of his jaw. 

Kyung misses seeing Jiho as happy and healthy. He misses the past so much lately. 

He takes a deep breath and prompts, “So, how?” 

Jiho tells them on the drive home. His story is a bit nonsensical, Kyung thinks, but he figures it might just be that he’s too shaken up to tell it right. 

Something about the other guy having a record a mile long, about dangerous business going on. It sounds too nonchalant coming from Jiho’s bloodied lips; Kyung is sure there’s deeper meaning.

H must think so too, or rather, knows so, because he interjects to elaborate grimly, “The police don’t want to get too deeply involved in this type of thing.” 

“Isn’t that...wrong? It’s their job, I doubt they’d just make decisions like that just to save themselves the trouble,” Kyung suggests tentatively, hoping that there is some form of justice left for them to rely on, even if it has so far never favored them much.

“World’s more corrupt than you grew up thinking.” 

Kyung doesn’t respond because it’s true. He’s learned a lot of new things in the past year, things about the functioning of the world in reference to positions not-so-favorable. From here, everything is unimaginably worse. No one is ever on their side. 

Kyung doesn’t really want to hear more, but Seunghoon goes on anyway, “They avoid the same places we do, because they’d hate to happen upon trouble and have to deal with it. People like us don’t matter.” 

“They said I have a record, and if they want this can be taken to court,” Jiho offers, voice small. It’s not much comfort to Kyung. 

The younger boy looks out the window, the houses lining the streets blurred by motion and the glassy film of tears across his eyes. He presses his cheek against the cool glass.

“We really are alone, aren’t we?” 

But no one answers him, and the rest of the drive back goes in silence. 

Seunghoon stops the car and Jiho gets out. Kyung lifts his hand to open his own door too, but the soft click of it locking comes first.

“You’re not going with him,” Seunghoon says sternly. 

He wants to argue, but when he meets Seunghoon’s gaze, he falls silent. There is no conversation to be had here. 

When the car comes to a slow stop on Kyung’s street, Seunghoon sighs, but again falls into a long silence in search of words. 

Kyung wipes his eyes on his sleeve. 

Too tired to offer comfort, and sick of the push and pull that comes with Kyung’s immaturity, Seunghoon eventually says bluntly, “Just go home, stop crying”, refusing to look back at Kyung now. He doesn’t mean just now, he means always. Jiho is not worth the trouble.

Kyung walks home, gets scolded, doesn’t care. 

_Better off dead_ , he thinks numbly, _best being dead._ ,

He doesn’t care what Seunghoon says. It’s too late to go back, too late to not love Jiho. If they really cared, they’d have stopped living so dangerously long ago. They would’ve listened to Kyung. But they didn’t, and now here they are, condemned to another short eternity of living amidst this suffering. 

Once, all those months ago, Jiho promised that all this was for them. Jiho said he’d take care of them. It didn’t feel so true now. 

What does it matter? Too late is the truth known, that those pledges were empty comfort. Kyung is hopelessly in love with Jiho and nothing can save them now.

They lay in the grass, in the park past midnight. 

Kyung is afraid for the future. Everything feels far too temporary. He turns to glance at Jiho briefly, wanting to express the sentiment, but fear silencing him. 

A long silence stretches on, not uncomfortably, but full of somber thoughts. Kyung holds on to Jiho’s hand.

Jiho looks to Kyung and frowns. “Are all the stars really dead?” 

Laying in the grass there, Kyung feels so cold, the dampness of crushed plant life under him seeping into the thin cotton of his shirt. 

“I…” Kyung tries to think of everything he has ever been told, but suddenly, it seems as if all the knowledge once recited to him in school has left. It was all without correlation to his life, only this, maybe if he had known about this, he could navigate their struggles easier. “I don’t know, Jiho.”

Jiho sits up, and Kyung follows the movement, worry drawing a frown across his features. He tries to meet Jiho’s eyes, but the older boy refuses to look back. 

Everything feels so difficult. He takes Jiho and hugs him near, holding the older boy against his chest and brushing a soft kiss against his temple. 

“I love you,” he whispers against Jiho’s hair. 

It would make them feel quite foolish had it been found that the stars overhead had died long ago. To think, all their wishing and hoping and begging under those same white specks had been wasted breath. Words spoken to the abyss. No one was listening. And all those times Kyung had looked up into it in search of answer, had that been in vain too? 

None of it could be known to them. 

They stay on edge, always afraid of Jiho getting in trouble again. In fact, they become so affected that Seunghoon himself suggests one day, sitting in the parking garage, “We should lay low for a bit. Or at least Jiho should.”

Everyone agrees. But their words cannot be so sincere, Kyung knows better.

It’s night. Kyung should be home. But he never is. A fire burns vivid at the center of their group, eating away at a newspaper J had dropped into moments earlier. The smoke rising from it is heavy and black until the pages are fully consumed.

“We’ve crossed a line,” Kyung says, rubbing his eyes tiredly and leaning against Jiho. The others look at him with confusion, once again not understanding. Yet, they do not ask for elaboration, and Kyung knows by that, that they do not care. They will not lie low. 

What he means is that they’ve stepped over into a more dangerous game. They’re playing with real stakes now. Before it was petty revenge, but now, it was serious. They had been ready to sacrifice their own just for the triumph of having Jiho jailed. They had no inhibitions, to them no cost was too high. That made this game one too dangerous to remain involved with.

They had no moral standing. Nothing could stop them. The extent they had gone to frame Jiho meant life was expendable to them. Even as individuals, they found their own self inferior in the face of a success for the majority, and that had revealed itself when that man had stabbed himself in attempt to frame Jiho. There were no limits.

And that was terrifying. That meant anything could happen.

But only Kyung knows. 

Kyung tries again, “We’re not safe, they won’t leave us alone.”

And the way Seunghoon looks at him sets dread low in Kyung’s heart. Seunghoon knows. 

Maybe to diffuse the tension, or maybe because he doesn’t fully comprehend the severity of their situation, Taeil shrugs and responds with a snort of laughter, “When have we ever been safe?” 

In agreement with that, Jaehyo points out with a lopsided grin, “Exactly, so we might as well have fun while we’re at it.” 

Kyung doesn’t respond then. It’s a lost cause, these are people that cannot be reasoned with. So, he sits back and listens to the cheerfully morbid conversation being shared among the other boys.

“We’re absolutely going to die!” Laughter. Other words exchanged, a slap on the back, an arm accidentally punched too hard. Orange light illuminates faces, an open fire licks at the sky, a moth flies too near. Kyung never wants to go home. He hugs Jiho tighter, snuggled against his side and face turned to watch the other boys feed chips of wood to their bonfire as they joke about mortality.

They sit in the parking garage and it’s after dark, Kyung at the edge of the sofa with Jiho beside him. If he leans further to the side he can see the night sky really well. 

“No, no, but we’re going to get them back good, okay? We’re not gonna let this go,” Yukwon says and everyone agrees, even Jihoon who was never meant to be involved in this, and Yoon and Mino who they had vowed to preserve the safety of just as they had Jihoon’s. Kyung looks to Seunghoon, seeking the sobriety and maturity of his judgement only to be faced with more disappointment. Seunghoon smiles at Jinwoo, who mirrors the expression, both caught in the naive excitement of it all. Kyung slumps against Jiho.

All hope had left him long ago, and yet he still finds himself harboring space for further despondency. It’s hard to keep the dismay off his face, but no one seems to notice, they’re all caught in the vibrant elation at what they might do next. 

Kyung thinks of himself as being very alone then. He imagines this is what people mean when they claim being outcast even among company. In the wider scope of things, he is so, so alone. It is just him in his isolation, watching a dog eat dog world without knowing any better than to succumb to the way of animals too. 

He wallows in solitary without anyone knowing, or so he believes. Unprompted, Jiho takes his hand tenderly, and when Kyung looks up at him, the older boy squeezes Kyung’s hand and musters a smile different to all those that have been shared this night. Another one of those secret smiles, shared only between them two, with meanings Kyung can't decipher. He looks back to the fire and revises for the millionth time his perspective. Perhaps this entire time he’s been wrong, maybe Jiho has known all along, too. What if they’ve all known from the start that these were all foolishly futile attempts at being liberated but they had simmered in desperation and asperity for too long for any other option to seem preferable? So misfortunate that people so good could become defiled by calamity. 

They are good people. Kyung knows they must be, even if they do the wrong things. He’s never known people purer, more virtuous or righteous, than them. He’s never found acceptance elsewhere. 

Knowing these things, it might be better to let it all go. There are good people and bad people both. Kyung holds on to Jiho’s hand tight and looks around at the circle of friends. 

He loves them all so much. They talk and there's something distinct and unique to each voice, bubbling with the liveliness of youth and brimming with charisma of their quirky personalities. Relishing in his love for them he can dismiss all the dark thoughts.

Kyung rests back against the soft, worn cushions and grins to himself. Jiho comes alive, excitedly telling his boys a story that Kyung has listened to a hundred times before, and wants to hear a hundred times more. They’re a bunch of beat up kids making up a different kind of family. There’s laughter and the last coke is being passed around, more spilled than anything. He has a thought, one that makes him freeze momentarily. When everyone bursts into laughter, Kyung smiles wider, tilts his head back to look at the blurring stars above. A force so powerful settles on his chest, and suddenly he’s enlightened, he thinks. Wrapped in the warmth and belonging, he silently prays and _begs_ , letting the stars mix and conjoin in his vision. 

Kyung goes home with Jiho that night, even though Jiho insists he goes home, warning that his parents will be furious. Kyung soothes Jiho’s worries with a gentle kiss, mumbling on about how he doesn’t care. Jiho still looks troubled. 

The end up lying around, not doing much. They don’t need anything but one another’s company. Kyung wants to savor every moment with Jiho. Something tells him that times like this are limited, so he should cherish them, make the most of them.

"You're so pretty," Kyung breathes, running a finger under Jiho's eye and feeling soft eyelashes. Jiho smiles, closed lipped and shy. Meekly he implores, "Really?"

"Yeah. So pretty. Come closer."

Still shy, Jiho does as told, crawling closer and putting a hand on Kyung's leg. Kyung cups his face and grants a kiss to the tip of his nose. He moves to run his fingers through Jiho's hair, tracing lines across his scalp and earning a soft sigh from Jiho's lips. Letting go of his face Kyung repeats, "You're so pretty." Jiho's face flushes and he averts eye contact, delicately tucking his hair behind one ear and biting his lip to suppress an embarrassed smile. 

That small action makes Kyung's heart jump to his throat. He follows the motion and touches a finger to Jiho's ear. "You're so pretty," Kyung breathes, frozen in awe of how lovely Jiho is. With the soft curve of his cheek, the angle of his jaw, and the occasional moles that pepper his face. With the pretty black lashes fanned out over his cheeks and the shy smile that graces his pink lips. With the love Kyung has irrevocably dedicated to him. 

Kyung brings his hand to Jiho's chin, a thumb pressed to his lower lip. So soft. He presses down, heart jumping at how Jiho's lips part just slightly. "Open," he prompts, nudging again, and Jiho does so hesitantly. He places his thumb on Jiho's tongue, watches the stiff obedience Jiho waits with and the clear apprehension written in his eyes. Kyung tries to keep his heart from leaping out of his chest. Such a good boy. 

He retracts his hand and leans forward to reward Jiho with a kiss pressed delicately to one cheek. "Prettiest." Jiho can't keep a smile off his lips.

He can’t believe he has Jiho. He wants things to be this way forever. He wants to note down every detail of Jiho in fear that he might lose him. He wants to hold on to this moment forever, it feels unreal. 

In the short pause of time where Kyung is caught up in thoughts as such, Jiho moves to rest his head against Kyung’s chest, eyes closed and a soft contented hum coming from him. 

Kyung frowns and wraps his arms around the older boy, holding him near and pressing a kiss against his hair. 

It is all so temporary, and that hurts to know. Kyung wants things to be this way for a long time.

 

They’ve become a nuisance as gangs of boys tend to be. Causing trouble wherever they go in the most mundane patterns; knocking things over amidst their horseplay, talking and laughing too loud, making crude jokes that no one wants to overhear, teasing and crossing lines far too often as if they have the luxury of ticking strangers off. But they’re just having some fun.

They go out to drink often, a lot more often than a crowd of underage kids should. But that’s okay too, they’re just having fun. They’re young and have no one to tell them any better, all raised on too much or too little freedom so that they’re incapable of guiding themselves properly. All they have is one another. They drink and turn messy, revealing regrettable confessions and dancing bad. Kyung likes it too, sometimes. Even if he says he doesn’t, there are some days where it feels good to be so disoriented that he can’t see straight. Jiho says lewd things and everyone groans which is nothing but encouragement to Kyung to entertain him. The numbing buzz of alcohol makes him brave, makes it easy to kiss Jiho gross and unapologetically. 

When they borrow an old van to drive out to a cliff overlooking their usual beach, Kyung sits pressed between Jihoon and Taeil. They push at one another and practically crush him between, but he just laughs. They play music loud and speak even louder so everything is just very, very loud. It suits them, because that’s what they are as a whole lately. Existing so vividly and strikingly so that there are no moments left behind where their essence is not ingrained in its memory. 

They spend time down on the beach and Kyung can’t help but be reminded of moments over the past year where this very action has been replicated, and most of all of the first time he had come to this very location with Jiho. So much has changed since then, Kyung thinks as he sits on a flat stone and watches Mino and Jihoon messing around in the water. There’s a glistening line of white drawn across the horizon where the light strikes the water, shining so bright that it’s almost hard to look at. Kyung likes the way it makes everyone’s silhouettes illuminate with fuzzy silver outlines, as if they were otherworldly- angelic. 

When it starts turning dark, they begin heading up the steep hill, Jiho’s hand in Kyung’s. They open up the trunk of the van and get their food. Seunghoon took the liberty of preparing everything ahead of time. Kyung catches glimpse of the satisfied grin on his face when everyone eats. This pride looks better on Seunghoon than any other, he concludes silently. 

They end up short one bottle of soda, so Kyung volunteers to go back to the van to get it and no one can be surprised when Jiho goes with him. When they don’t come back for too long, everyone agrees on not wanting to pursue them in search of that missing drink, because who knows what the couple are up to now. 

In the back of the van, Kyung lays beside Jiho, hands clasped between them and legs tangled, talking about constellations that he’s made up.

They spend a lot of time together like that. In between all the fighting there are so many moments as such. They party and eat and live life as young people should. Only there’s always the weight of their next conflict, their next loss, of what challenge faces them next.

At a party, Kyung watches Jiho dancing from across the room. He can’t contain a giggle, watching the clumsy dancing and thinking of how cute his boyfriend looks. Jiho moves to the beat, and when he pulls his arms up to the music, a grin highlighting the roundness of his cheeks, Kyung has the urge to hold him. So, Kyung goes to join him, slipping into the space beside him and laughing loud when Jiho notices him and slurs drunkenly with an incredibly bright smile, “My boyfriend.” 

Kyung nods and shushes him, rolling his eyes as if he doesn’t find this all so adorable. He loves Jiho so much, it makes his chest tight. 

They hang out in Jihoon’s backyard when his family is out of town. They spend practically the entire day together. Somehow, they don’t mind being around one another so long, not with so much threatening to break them apart. 

Kyung gets tired. Obviously his first reaction is to seek out Jiho, gravitating to him like a moth to light. He stumbles towards the older boy, Jiho’s arms already welcoming him. He settles himself comfortably there, face pressed into the front of his shirt. Jiho kisses his head and rubs his back, and though Kyung can’t see his face, he’s sure Jiho is smiling. “What’s wrong, baby?” 

“Nothing, I’m jus’ sleepy.” 

Jiho hums and repositions himself to bundle Kyung closer and Kyung contentedly snuggles into Jiho’s arms, hugging tight. This is what he’s stuck around for; the love of his life holding him close, his friends surrounding him in happiness and support, the cool kiss of summer night air. For this it all feels worth it. 

Jiho sways them both slightly, kissing Kyung’s head again as if he just can’t contain the desire to do so. They’ve come a long way, and their battles are so much more than inner turmoil. There’s no more asking if this is okay, if they are okay. Kyung has long since abandoned those musings, he’s firm in his belief that he and Jiho are in love and love is love. There’s no one else he’d rather be with and no one can make him feel any differently. 

Kyung pulls away slightly to kiss wherever he can reach Jiho—his chin, the corner of his jaw, his collarbone. Jiho laughs, sweet and gentle, looking down to kiss Kyung properly. Contented, Kyung returns to burying himself in Jiho’s arms, okay with only listening to the conversations around him rather than participating. 

The boys talk about the stupid, careless things they do. And they talk about all the things they want to do as if there’s a future waiting out there for them. Kyung’s heart hurts a little hearing them. He wishes them all the best, but at this rate it’s certain they’ll burn out soon. It’s not their fault, Kyung thinks, their circumstances were cruel.

He falls asleep like that, thinking of how he loves Jiho _so_ much, how he feels belonging surrounded by these people. Jiho takes good care of him, carries him back to his car and drives him home, and when Jiho settles him in bed there’s a brief moment where he’s awake. He watches Jiho with hazy, sleep clouded eyes and smiles soft, earning a shy smile back. Kyung is barely awake but he finds the clarity to ask, “You’re gonna stay, right?”

Jiho smiles wider and wordlessly nods, taking Kyung’s hand in his own and squeezing tight before going to the bathroom. When he gets back, he helps Kyung out of his jeans and settles down in bed, pulling Kyung towards himself to hug him. 

All he can think about is how good things had been, even if they're not like that now. He thinks of driving out of the city on hot summer days and of running along cold sea mist at the beach and of multicolored lights dyeing the night sky. He thinks of hard times too, but they’ve been hard times with Jiho by him, so those are meaningful as well. Suddenly, everything has an inexpressible value tied to it. 

Every look, every kiss, has a feeling of finality linked to it. There’s no knowing how much time they have left, but it feels brief. That’s what love is, Kyung decides: blindness. Thinking back of the last year, Kyung realizes he’s never known anything. It’s always been about searching and learning then finding and losing. Just like that they’ll lose love that they’ve found because that’s how stories for boys like them go.

For now, he’ll just hang on to the intimacy of the moment, letting good times wash over him as sleep embraces him in the arms of his lover. 

It's not only Jiho who he has come to love. With the passing months, he grows to find all the boys as being so essential to his life. Getting shouted at by his parents every night is a small price to pay if it means he can spend time with his friends.

Like that, he finds himself with Jinwoo and Seunghoon often, too. Oddly enough, they don’t kick him out, even if he is a bit of a bother.

He likes to sit in their living room or at their kitchen counter, listening to the rambling between the two, or sometimes just watching Seunghoon cook.

Once more he finds himself in their apartment, sitting on the couch and watching the older two. 

Jinwoo looks to Seunghoon. 

Their history remains unknown to Kyung. To him, who knows no better, they have always been compliments to one another, always a pair. 

A rare tenderness drips into Jinwoo's expression when his gaze settles on Seunghoon, their eyes meeting. His voice is light, chimes softly like wind sifting through sea shells hung decoratively outside the homes along the beach, “They're in love, aren't they?”

A soft smile graces Kyung’s lips. He feels no weight in his chest now as he had in former conversations that had once taken place here. He interjects, speaking clearly and without hesitation, “Yes, we're in love. Me and Jiho, we're really in love.” 

Jinwoo laughs, lovely and so strikingly beautiful, Kyung thinks Seunghoon so lucky to awake to that pretty face each morning, watching streams of golden light settle across his face, illuminate his eyes like raw honey. 

But Kyung still thinks himself just a little luckier. He has Jiho, who he's sure objectively must not be so beautiful, he's sure his judgement is clouded by biases. But, what does it matter? He still feels luckier, because he has Jiho, who has an obnoxious, loud laugh that he so often covers with one hand. And sometimes his laugh is higher, more a giggle, the kind that makes Kyung feel as if he's drowning in that love for Jiho. Kyung thinks himself lucky to have Jiho, even if those qualities aren’t so beautiful as Jinwoo. 

Seunghoon says something to Jinwoo, Kyung misses what exactly it is that is said. But he's sure it's not important, the two are involved in some short, private conversation that he can no longer follow. He doesn't mind, of course not. 

He loves love, he thinks. He loves to know that Seunghoon and Jinwoo, they are in love too, that they have one another in the way Kyung has Jiho and Yukwon has his girlfriend and he thinks the whole world ought to have someone to love that way. Maybe then it wouldn't be so intolerant; there wouldn't be so much hate. 

Kyung is so thankful for them. He's not exactly sure, because the dramatic leaps of change between now and when he first had met them confuse him, but he's suspicious of this feeling being love too. He thinks in some ways he's given in and begun to love Seunghoon too. He's weak for that, he knows, and he doesn't really find that so wrong. Seunghoon doesn't have to love him back, maybe this really is all business. Kyung doesn't really care. He's thankful for Seunghoon's presence in his life, it is so nice to have someone like him, someone who is willing to watch out for him when no one else can. 

Then their conversation breaks, gives way for Kyung to rejoin. Seunghoon is laughing too, looks to Kyung to say, “You know, I'm happy for you two.” 

Kyung grins and nods. He feels full on this feeling like love. 

“We owe you a lot,” Kyung answers genuinely, and Seunghoon snorts, as if he doesn’t believe it. But Kyung thinks Seunghoon knows it, he just won’t express it. 

 

It's him and Jiho against the world. 

He remembers a time when he had thought it was Jiho alone against the world. Back then he himself had never wanted to face such a daunting challenge. But now for Jiho it seems worth the hardship.

He's always excited to see Jiho. He can't keep from breaking into a smile when he sees the older boy, leaping into a story, into playful teasing, into their own world. 

Kyung pushes Jiho when he says something particularly annoying, but then immediately follows his half step away so that they're walking side by side again, shoulders touching, hands sometimes briefly brushing. 

"I have exams coming up soon," Kyung tells him, watching their shadows stretch across the pavement. He looks back at Jiho when the older boy responds unhappily, "That means you're gonna be busy." Kyung laughs, so full of adoration for Jiho and the casually sweet fondness he expresses. It's an I'll miss you without having to say those words. 

"Help me study then," Kyung suggests, even if it's a bad idea for his grades. Jiho grins then, not so foolish and wide like other times, but still toothy, still distinctly Jiho.

Kyung waits at a cafe for Jiho, picking a table by the window. The wait is longer than expected, but Kyung knows Jiho wouldn't forget about him. So, he waits longer, hoping the staff don't mind him still having yet to purchase anything.

When Jiho comes in fifteen minutes late, Kyung spots him instantly at the door, bursting in a little out of breath and hair wind-blown. He's so lovely, Kyung thinks to himself, letting the other boy search for a moment longer before waving at him to catch his attention.

"Sorry, work ran late," he's saying as he sits across from Kyung, "What do you want, I'll order." 

Jiho gets something sweet and cold that Kyung steals a sip of when Jiho isn't looking. Kyung' coffee is much too strong for Jiho's liking. 

They talk. Somehow, they never seem to run out of things to talk about, an abundance of words spilling from overly eager mouths, tumbling and tangling in the excitement of one another's company. In ways such as that they are still so young and their love still only budding. It's dreamlike. 

Kyung shakes his head. "Okay, okay," he blurts, grin hardly kept off his face, "I should really study now." 

The older boy rests his head on the table and watches, eyes darting to follow Kyung' movements when he leans towards his bag to retrieve a book. He holds his breath, drinking in the appearance of his boyfriend; the soft slope of his nose, the smooth curve of a cheek, the ridge of an eyebrow. When Kyung turns, his attention catches on Jiho for a moment. Jiho's heart beat jumps, quickens, then resettles in its sea of pure adoration. 

Kyung prompts with a quirked eyebrow and a curious lilt to his tone, "What?" 

Jiho smiles softly. "Nothing."

Still smirking, the younger boy leans forward, task once again forgotten. "You must've been thinking of something," he urges teasingly. 

Jiho lifts his head, inching just minutely closer, and whispers, "You're so handsome." Surely Kyung can tell he's blushing, it can't be missed with how close they are.

Breaking into a full grin, Kyung pulls away and sits properly in his seat again, hands finding the abandoned book once more. He wishes they could be closer for longer, the longing for it never subsides. But they're in public.

Jiho orders Kyung another drink, making it an excuse to stay longer. The sidewalk is tinted pink by the setting sun when they finally head home. Kyung grabs Jiho's hand when they're in his car.

Jiho smiles at him with his lips pressed together, genuine and shy. 

"Love you," Kyung says, the words coming so easy these days. 

The older boy leans forward and returns a low "I love you too," before Kyung closes the gap between them for a kiss. 

When they pull apart Jiho still doesn't start the car. "This is crazy...that we're dating, I mean," he says instead. 

Jiho doesn't usually say that type of thing. Of course it's crazy, everything they do is.

"I can't believe I'm dating you," He continues, "You're so cute and funny and you're so, so smart, Kyung. I can't believe you're dating _me_." 

Kyung feels his face heat up, brings his hands up to hide the creeping blush dusting his face. "Shut up," he laughs awkwardly, shaking his head and uncovering his face. "You're kidding, right?" 

Jiho gapes at him. Kyung laughs again, still nervously and face still red. "Jiho, whenever I..." Kyung starts only to pause, choked up on his inability to express the grossly loving thoughts he has of Jiho. But Jiho looks at him so expectantly, mouth hanging open just barely and eyebrows knitted in anticipation, that Kyung feels obligated to work around the lump in his throat and say it anyway.

"Whenever I hold you all I can think is— I can't believe I have you. Of all the people out there, I'm the one holding you and I don't know how or why but it feels so lucky." 

It's Jiho's turn to look embarrassed, yet he manages a strangled, "Oh." 

Kyung feels an unfamiliar fluttering of his heart. It feels...good to tell Jiho this. It feels right to pour his heart out to the other boy, to tell him how it is to love him and it makes him so giddy to see Jiho respond this way. Jiho is loved and making it so that he knows it is a better feeling than any. 

Jiho squeezes Kyung's hand tight and watches the way their fingers fit together. 

"Kyungie, I know it's dumb but... I think we're meant to be together." 

Kyung's heart stops. That hurts, for whatever reason.

The younger boy frowns, helplessly drowning in a violent desperation to hold on to Jiho forever. There's a need to cling to Jiho, he wants to cling to Jiho's shirt or to grip his shoulders and hold so tight so that he won't ever be torn away. 

The momentary frown drawn across Kyung's features seems to draw worry to Jiho's face too. Kyung tries to shake it away, forcing a delicate, wavering smile that is at the very least genuine.

"Even if it's not like that, I love you and nothing else matters," Kyung urgently explains, taking Jiho's other hand too. 

Jiho nods twice, head bobbing up and down heavily as he notes Kyung's claim, adorably captivated by the weighty tone of Kyung's words. 

They end up parking by a bus station with plans to go downtown. Kyung has so much school work he could be doing instead, but he figures he’s done enough. He deserves the break, he tells himself. And anyway, school is always. Jiho might only be for today. 

On the bus ride Kyung sits down and Jiho stands in front of him, one leg just slightly between Kyung's legs. He holds on to the bar overhead. 

So close yet so far. Kyung savors this casual intimacy too. Jiho looks down at him and says something, something unimportant but so dear to Kyung anyway. 

They talk. People come and go. No one suspects a thing.

When their stop comes Jiho steps back to let Kyung up. Kyung wishes Jiho hadn't, wishes instead that he could stand only to crash into Jiho's form, let themselves tangle and press and be close. 

They get off, pausing to thank the driver. Jiho talks more and Kyung is engrossed.

“Say you love me,” Jiho requests suddenly.

Kyung stutters, taken aback.

“Why?”

“I feel like… what if I never hear it from you ever again? I start to want to hear it often whenever I think like that.” 

“Then, I'll say so now. I love you, Jiho. I love you. But you'll hear it again, we're going to be together for a long time. Still, I'll say so anyway, I love you.” 

Kyung lays in bed that night, wishing he could pinpoint the exact moment where he and Jiho had gone from friends to whatever it is they are now. It didn’t happen overnight, it couldn’t have. But it feels that way. 

It’s embarrassing how much he loves Jiho. 

Late February and Kyung has little say in what goes on these days. Trouble finds them regardless of what they do to avoid it, or to seek it out first. They’ve lost control completely. Kyung can’t say he’s surprised.

With ongoing turmoil there is still good times. Kyung finds it a good distraction from all that’s gone wrong lately. He likes when Seunghoon and Jinwoo get them alcohol, takes more than allowed. And to think, he once would have been against this.

He ends up so out of it one night that it really is no surprise when he spills his drink on Jiho. 

“Oh.” Kyung gapes dumbly, not doing anything in terms of helping. Jiho just laughs, and Kyung watches with wide eyes, enamored by it. He watches Jiho go to where Seunghoon and Jinwoo are to get some napkins. Sighing fondly, Kyung sits down by the other boys.

"I'm going to marry Jiho”

All conversation halts. Eyes flicker over to Kyung. Mouths gape in absence of words. 

For a long moment, everyone is at a standstill. There is nothing anyone can come up with to say in response to Kyung, because although they all know the reality, it is much too cruel to voice it now. But they know they cannot let him believe it to be possible, they can’t let the hope grow too vivid in him. It would absolutely crush him if he were to let this silly game run too long.

They all know the truth, that this was never meant to last. All this time, they’ve been humoring Jiho, letting him live out his fantasy, playing what he thinks is a normal youth. But they know it was all temporary, just a brief taste of love that was never meant to really be. 

Jaehyo reaches for Kyung's hand, has words on the tip of his tongue to sooth and explain. But Yoon interrupts, livid with confusion and a thirst for understanding. 

"You can't marry Jiho, you're a boy. You know that, don't you?" 

Kyung looks up at him and frowns. "I'm going to marry Jiho," he slurs again, brows furrowed in confusion. 

"Two boys can't get married, you can't ever marry Jiho," Yoon insists.

The boys are glaring daggers at Yoon, and Jaehyo even takes him by the shoulder to pull him away from Kyung, hissing, "Shut up, shut up." But it's too late, the damage is done.

"Oh, Kyung, no." 

They watch helplessly as Kyung, teary eyed, tries to sit fully upright. The glossy sheen to his eyes from tears gathering and the wavering pout are telltale enough that Yoon's words have gotten to him nice and clear. 

Jihoon goes to him and sets a hand on his shoulder. "Kyungie, don't cry," Jihoon tries, unable to offer any other comfort. What Yoon said can't be covered up, he wasn't wrong. And the truth hurts.

Kyung sniffs. He wipes at his face with the back of his hand. "I'm going home," He announces, slipping as soon as he stands. 

Jiho, Seunghoon and Jinwoo are returning when Kyung has stood up properly. Jaehyo takes Kyung's arm and holds him close. Kyung doesn't object, instead latching onto the contact and gripping Jaehyo as if afraid of being let go. As if he were a child clinging to his parents leg the first day of school, afraid of abandonment. 

"You're an asshole," Taeil spits at Yoon, glaring at the younger boy. Upon witnessing the animosity, Seunghoon looks taken aback, immediately prepared to defend Yoon, "Why the fuck—"

"Ask him yourself. We're taking Kyung home." 

Amidst the tense arguing, Jiho stares on, unknowing. He tries to ask, but Jaehyo and Jihoon pretend not to hear, because they surely cannot explain this to him, too. 

Jiho tries to get a hold of Kyung, painfully aware of the other boy’s state, but Jaehyo tugs him away.

“Kyungie,” Jiho tries to call, his confusion somehow only adding to the pity that envelopes the boys. He has no idea at all, he could never imagine the things Kyung has said. Jiho doesn’t know how Kyung loves him so dearly, how he wants more than brief, fleeting brushing of hands and quick, blurry kisses stolen under night time darkness. Though, Jiho must want that too, that shared sentiment can’t be known to one another. That would make things only so much worse, it would make the unfairness sting harsher, turn to a scathing burn. 

They take Kyung to Jihoon’s house, whose parents are understanding enough to let the boy stay over even though they must have noticed he'd been drinking. Taeil and Jaehyo are reluctant to leave, suggesting they stay, but Jihoon assures that all is well. He assumes Kyung needs a moment in solitude.

They sit on the couch in silence. Jihoon holds Kyung close like a baby, sweeping his hair back and forth. Kyung feels bad for getting the front of Jihoon's shirt wet with his tears and dumbly tries to wipe the fabric with his fingers. 

"Kyung... you know you can't, right?"

Kyung squeezes his eyes shut and stills his hands. 

"I know." 

Jihoon holds his breath, trying to avoid the crushing weight of tragedy. 

"But I love him so much." 

 

From that day onwards, no one mentions what had happened, what Kyung had said. He remembers is clearly, and fears at first that someone might bring it up again. But to his relief, no one does. He reprimands himself for having ever said it in the first place. How embarrassing. 

Good times never do last for them. It’s nearly March then.

Kyung comes to Jiho's apartment to find him sitting with his face pressed to his palms. His hair is cropped short.

It ends up so that Kyung is sat beside Jiho rubbing his back soothingly, though the older boy won't cease in his crying. He wipes at his face, revealing himself fully only briefly before burying his face in his hands again. 

"What happened?"

He tries not to dwell on how Jiho really does look so different, hair buzzed so short it might as well not be there. There are patches of blood and his hair varies in length, as if not cut properly, or done in a hurry. And faintly across one cheek are thin red scrapes and grey dirt.

Hesitantly, Kyung reaches out a hand to gently touch at his scalp, leaning close to look at the dried red scabs. Jiho doesn’t explain.

He thinks this is it. There’s no way out now. 

No matter how they might try to avoid the trouble now, it is too late. People like himself, like Jiho, and all his boys, they might be better off dead.

Kyung holds onto Jiho and listens to his soft crying, yet offers no words of comfort. There’s nothing to be said.

He gives Jiho another few minutes before tugging him up. The older boy wipes his face on the back of one hand, reluctant but still obedient, following Kyung when asked.

“Wash up, okay?”

Kyung carefully tugs his shirt off, helping him undress as he murmurs soothing words. In the back of his mind he can’t help but think of how this is not how normal relationships should go. He’s too young to be given this burden. 

He kneels by the tub to wash out all the blood, Jiho wincing and hissing with pain when soap seeps into the raw wounds. 

The walls of the bathroom make his voice echo no matter how lowly he whispers it, “Those people, they hurt you, didn’t they?”

Jiho is silent for a long time. Time feels nonexistent there, with no way of knowing how the sky might look beyond those walls, of what goes on past their confines. 

“Yeah, Kyungie. I didn’t do anything—” Jiho’s voice breaks off into something like a whimper and his one hand, wet still, finds Kyung’ and takes hold, “I didn’t do anything, Kyung. I didn’t do it. I was gonna come home, I didn’t do it.”

Jiho, with his face pressed into the gravel. Foul words berating him. A knife with which done is a poor job, a purposely bloody job. 

“Kyung, I wasn’t trying to start anything. It wasn’t my fault, really,” Jiho keeps babbling, the tile walls of the bathroom mocking him and repeating words with hollow voices.

And he thinks, 

He should just be thankful that Jiho is alive at all.

So, for maybe the hundredth time that month, Kyung looks up at the ceiling, certain of the stars behind it, and counts his blessings. 

Alive, just barely, but alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I reread the first few chapters and then look at where things are now, it feels like a completely different story, doesn't it? It's been a long story, but we're finally nearing the end~


	18. who do you love?

Soft patches of sunlight dappled across his face, strands of wispy black falling across his forehead and curling around his ears. His head rests on Kyung's leg. Kyung watches the way patterned light sifts through the big fan like leaves around them and marks Jiho's face with round, gold dollops of sun. It's serene, only sound being the quiet running of water at a nearby stream and the soft whistle of wind rustling leaves. Kyung touches Jiho's cheek tenderly. 

A laugh, low and genuine, open mouthed grinning and eyes creased at the corners. Kyung's heart flips, tangles itself further in the intoxicating sensations of Jiho. _I love you, I love you,_ he thinks, running fingers through soft black hair like silk and relishing in that adoring gaze. 

The cool of the pond beckons. He pulls his tee shirt off, tossing it aside and taking a tentative step into the still water. Jiho sits up, seeking the comfort that's left him. No words exchanged, he follows, curiously plunging hands first into the water as if to taste it's cold. 

They play, rambunctious and childish. Laughing, teasing, the sun dives lower into the horizon and Jiho splashes Kyung. They interrupt the stillness of it, sending ripples across the water’s surface and fish shooting away for safety. Shadows slide across figures, become the telling voice of absent mothers, _come home._

Dark brings crickets and fireflies. It's as if stars have descended on them, kiss their fingertips before fluttering away. They leave their shoes discarded still. Kyung tears grass from below and drops a fistful upon Jiho's chest. _Here I grow my garden._ A firefly rests on his shoulder, brushes across a hand, fleetingly pauses at the nose's tip.

To the soulless stars there is no flaw in unadulterated love. But it is said to be sin, so they say _do not, do not, do not_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ♡ in case you missed it, chapter 17 is new too!! ♡


	19. In The Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He goes home drunk on thoughts of how he loves Jiho. Merging with common thoughts of love are thoughts born of fear. With each step towards his home his anxiety grows, preys on him greedily, taking his blood as nourishment, growing uncontrollable. Kyung can’t shake the feeling; can’t tell why he feels this way._

Jiho becomes touchy.

But Jiho was on the top of the world.

They were in love and Jiho was on the top of the world.

Jiho pulls a beanie over his head, tips of his ears hidden under it too. Kyung leans forward, standing on his toes to reach, and kisses a non-reciprocating Jiho. When Kyung pulls away, he frowns but says nothing, quietly taking Jiho’s hand and weaving their fingers together.

They were unstoppable. 

For a heartbeat, it had felt like nothing could stop them. For too long, Jiho had thought he was in control. 

Delusions fed to desperate souls. He had convinced himself, and the whole world, for several short seconds, that he was in control. He had thought he could make things work, make things right.

And now he was afraid as Kyung was, even if he would never admit it. 

But things were good once, Kyung is sure of it. He reminds himself often. 

“Jiho, it doesn’t matter,” Kyung says to him. It’s dark but he can still make out the shape of Jiho’s face, overlooking street lamps illuminating one side and casting shadows over the other. 

Jiho stills. There’s a duffel bag thrown over his shoulder. They never learn.

“I love you, Kyungie.”

Jiho manages a smile, surprisingly tender despite his mood lately.

Smiling back, Kyung takes a hesitant step towards him again, pitching up for a kiss again. This time Jiho responds, leaning in to close the gap between them and settling his hands at Kyung’s waist. Kyung fumbles for a moment, out of habit going to tangle fingers in hair no longer there. 

Between a kiss, when still held close, Kyung adds breathlessly, “You’re still pretty, so it doesn’t matter.” 

Jiho laughs and rolls his eyes, an edge of bitterness there, like he doesn’t believe it, or perhaps because it isn’t about appearances at all. 

Still, the coldness is misplaced, and he seems to become aware of that, flashing a smile and cooing as he smothers Kyung in a hug, pinches his cheeks and presses kisses to his face. One hand fisted in the front of Jiho’s shirt, Kyung tries not to laugh too loud, doesn’t want to draw attention and have to stop.

But there, in the dark of a desolate alley way far into the city, it isn’t likely anyone will happen upon them. 

Kyung pulls away reluctantly, but still giggling. “Give me your bag,” He says between soft panting for air. 

Jiho drops the bag from his shoulder and holds it out to Kyung, then watches as the younger unzips and shuffles through it.

“For you,” Kyung hands a can of spray paint to Jiho, keeping another for himself. 

They do this often now. Kyung wants Jiho to draw again. This is the closest it will ever get, he assumes.

Kyung shakes the can and sprays a line on the brick wall before them, as if testing it first. Underneath are obscured drawings and writings from countless others. All those markings, they must have stories too.

Kyung fools around for the most part, making nonsensical patterns that Jiho teasingly covers, sticking his tongue out at the younger afterwards.

It’s too late to sound mad, but Kyung tries anyway, giving an indignant, “hey, I worked hard on that,” before making another messy collection of shapes. 

Jiho goes to him, grabs his sides and Kyung squeaks in surprise, scrambling away and laughing. He means to color the wall again, but amidst the messing around misses and accidentally draws a line across the wall _and_ Jiho. 

He freezes, afraid he’s done wrong. There’s a line across Jiho’s shirt. And across his leather jacket too, unmistakable and glaringly bright. 

“Oh, I didn’t mean it, Jiho, I’m sorry,” Kyung starts, the playful giddiness falling from his tone immediately, as the can of paint tumbles to the ground. 

He goes to Jiho, reaches out to touch the jacket. He can’t tell if Jiho is mad or not, the older boy is quiet. 

Again, he repeats, “I’m sorry, Jiho,” one hand brushing the collar of the jacket as if examining the paint closer will reveal a way to remove it. 

He hopes Jiho isn’t upset, but he can’t tell.

And then Jiho suddenly grabs him, and he feels incredibly confused and scared for a moment, because it is almost reminiscent of times he’s been grabbed by others, but then this is different. Because Jiho holds him softly then, but still firm so that he can’t fall, and kisses him messily, a kiss obscured by smiles and suppressed laughter. 

“It doesn’t matter, Kyung,” He says, staring down at Kyung’s bewildered expression. 

Kyung relaxes, still a little caught off guard, but heart rate resettling as he lets himself be held close by Jiho for a moment longer. 

“Actually, here, you take it, you’re probably cold.” Jiho lets go of Kyung and shrugs the jacket off from his shoulders and is pulling Kyung’s arms through it before the younger can even comment. 

Long sleeves and oversized shoulders shrinking Kyung’s size once more, he stares up at the older boy. Again, he thinks, how beautiful his lover. 

Kyung thinks on impulse, he wants to be close again. 

Before Jiho can move away, Kyung grabs his wrist and yanks him down for another quick kiss before asking cheekily, “Does it look good on me?”

He expects the teasing tone to be returned, but Jiho steps back and he looks differently affected. His gaze drops down and he stares at Kyung for a long moment, enough to make Kyung almost self-conscious.

“Yeah, Kyungie. I-It looks really good on you,” the older boy half mumbles, voice unclear suddenly. Kyung laughs nervously and steps close, playing with the end of Jiho’s shirt, where it’s tucked into his jeans. 

They’re alone enough, Kyung thinks, as he tilts his head back to kiss Jiho’s jaw, then his neck. 

And then Jiho’s hands are at Kyung’s waist just briefly, and Kyung thinks of it as permission. They always do this, they’re always close. He presses his hands lower, finds the button of Jiho’s jeans, but then the older boy is pushing him away and Kyung doesn’t understand.

Yet, Kyung doesn’t push it, and withdraws instantly, looking up at the other boy with clear confusion. 

Without much else being said, Kyung realizes once again, Jiho has closed off. He shuffles back awkwardly, painfully aware that he’s hurt Kyung by the lack of communication that implies faltering trust. But nothing is said, the boy just pulls the beanie further over his ears and stares at the ground.

Jiho has been this way ever since that night. Kyung had spent all night assuring him whatever they said to him when they had shaved his head meant nothing. Kyung wonders else they did to him, but he’ll never know. Jiho refuses to talk. And since then, since that night, the other boy has been different. 

It is early April and Jiho is touchy. 

In the evening one day, Kyung finds himself hesitantly knocking at his sister’s room’s door. 

She’ll be gone at the end of the year for an internship that summer, and Kyung thinks he should be glad that he will have one less person to worry about, but he feels the usual lingering sadness instead.

She’s laying on the bed, flipping through a fashion magazine. Kyung quietly sits at the chair by her desk and waits for her to speak first.

Closing the magazine and propping her chin on one hand, she looks at him, giving her full attention as she prompts, “What’s wrong, Kyung?”

He has to be careful about this.

“Do you and your boyfriend ever…have hard times?”

Her life seems so perfect, and his is the very opposite. He’s done everything wrong while she is the image of perfection his parents would want from all their children.

She frowns. “Well, yes, all people do, sometimes,” and then after a brief pause, “Kyung, do you have a girlfriend?” 

Kyung kicks the ground, unsure where to look. He feels guilty for hiding the truth. 

Eventually he speaks, voice small, “No, I don’t.”

She nods, as if she believes him, and looks back at the magazine briefly. Her composure breaks and she bites into her lower lip. The decision she makes then is to, for once, not pretend. “I wish you wouldn’t lie so much.” 

But it isn’t really a lie, Kyung wants to say. Yet, why does he feel so guilty? 

He doesn’t answer, just leaves silently, feeling worse than he had before. 

In the middle of May, Kyung and the boys go out to eat even though Kyung should be home studying for his final exams. 

Briefly, he thinks of how he misses Minhyuk. In the past, the thought had ceased from occurring to him so often, but lately it returns frequently. He wonders of how things would be with Minhyuk around. It feels so long ago that he last saw Minhyuk, he can’t even remember what their last proper conversation had been. In that way, are all people forgotten? 

But then Jiho’s arm is around him, roughly pulling him closer and his hair is being playfully ruffled and all else is forgotten. 

There’s still an underlying anxiety. Watching his friends have fun, eating and talking and messing around as they always have, he can’t shake the feeling that this is something temporary. It feels too good to be true, not with how they’re constantly putting it in jeopardy. 

Kyung takes Jiho to his home that night, a rare occurrence, but his family is out and it’s the type of moments Kyung likes to take advantage of.

They sit in the living room, on the floor, half of the lights out. The soft yellow glow from the lamp illuminates Jiho’s face, makes his eyes shine. 

Jiho leans towards the sofa and drags a cassette player from under it, one they’ve hidden there in the past, because over the past two years, this has become routine. 

Kyung picks a tape and hands it Jiho, their fingers brushing. This is nice, doesn’t feel rushed like their time together often is. But the nervousness lingers, the fear for when it ends. 

Lately, or rather, for weeks on end, Kyung has felt this way. He feels hollowed out by all the fear, all the anticipation for what challenge approaches them next. But with Jiho, he can feel whole again. His other half.

The music starts and they talk over it. The songs change and their words do too. Kyung takes Jiho’s hand and plays with his fingers. 

The song changes.

“I love this one,” Jiho says.

“I know.”

Kyung takes his hand and gets up, pulling his lover with him and laughs. “One of your favorites.” _One of our favorites._

He knows Jiho so well, of course he does. They've been together for what feels like eternities. 

He feels dizzy, delirious and drunk from the closeness of Jiho and the music and from Jiho's words and from Jiho's hands holding his and from dancing with Jiho and laughing with Jiho. Jiho who makes him feel whole again, makes him feel safe. 

They laugh and mess around, and the song changes then, the mood shifts. 

A slower song, gentler. Kyung is still doubled over, laughing when it transitions, and when he looks back to Jiho, the older boy is watching him with a soft smile, so obviously in love. 

Kyung quiets. He feels Jiho's hands dumbly reach for him, knocking against Kyung’s own hands on accident, before settling at Kyung’s waist and pulling him closer. 

Again, Kyung giggles, stumbling towards Jiho. He drapes his arms over the older boy's shoulders, around his neck. 

Jiho kisses him. The music is soft, so tender, like Kyung's love for Jiho. Like the way Jiho holds him, like Kyung knows Jiho must love him too.

Close enough to kiss again, Kyung whispers to Jiho.

“You know, the offer still stands,” the music plays into its chorus, something about love, because everything is about love, “I'd still run away with you.” 

Jiho stills. He frowns, his voice falters. Kyung knows his lover considers it for a moment; for a heartbreakingly long second, Jiho thinks a future together could be real. 

“It wouldn't work.” 

And, God, it hurts. 

Jiho knows too. 

This is giving up, it's growing up. It's admitting defeat, it's knowing there's no future. It's telling Kyung they can't be together. It's hopelessness and despair and it hurts. 

Kyung has always known. But Jiho's blind hope, his optimism and stubborn dedication to some fantasy of _forever_ had kept them both afloat.

But Jiho knows. 

Kyung frowns. 

Jiho pulls him into a hug. The tape reaches its end, a sharp clicking sounds behind them. Jiho holds him tight.

Kyung presses against Jiho, holds even tighter, presses his face into the curve of Jiho's neck. 

“But I love you,” Kyung tries, wanting to restore Jiho's belief. 

Jiho breathes out. Kyung can feel the rise and fall of his chest, the thudding heartbeat. “It's not enough.”

It really hurts. 

“But you love me too, don't you?”

Jiho kisses Kyung's ear, his cheek. “Yeah, of course, I love you so much, Kyungie. So much.” 

Maybe too much. 

But it's too late. And the anxiety returns to Kyung, even amidst these feelings of love. 

Him and Jiho against the world. 

That day is another unspoken memory. They pretend it never happened. 

 

Jiho presses his tongue to Kyung’s, slides his fingers up Kyung’s thigh. His touch is delicate, long, slim fingers warm, searching, wanting.

Kyung shivers. 

He wants Jiho to touch. He wants Jiho to take more. Press harder, search and want and have. _I am yours_ he means to tell, kiss bruised lips parting to breathe his lover’s name again. 

But they won't go further, he can't have more. Because Jiho is not his, not for long, not forever. 

 

Walking along train tracks, bag slung over one shoulder and Jiho by his side, Kyung remembers the jacket suddenly, “Oh, Jiho, I need to get you your jacket back.”

“Don’t worry, next time,” answers the older boy. 

Kyung takes Jiho’s hand. “Okay, next time.”

Jiho stops walking, pulling Kyung beside himself. He brings a hand up to cup Kyung’s cheek, and the younger leans into the touch, closing his eyes and smiling softly at the warm, gentleness.

He tries to calm the nervousness from his heart, the voices that remind how fleeting this moment is. How at any moment someone could want them dead enough to make it reality. 

“I love you,” Jiho says, sparing a quick glance around themselves before kissing Kyung’s cheek tenderly. Kyung opens his eyes and grins. 

“Love you too.” 

Kyung never gets the chance to return the jacket.

 

Sometimes they're so caught up in the moment of it. 

Jihoon is pushing Kyung on the swings at the park during school hours, when it is mostly deserted. 

“Higher,” Kyung demands with a laugh. He turns back to look at Jihoon, smile so wide it feels as if it were cutting into his cheeks. 

Trees and grass and the sky rock back and forth in his vision. When Jihoon stops him, he feels the whole world spin. And he keeps smiling.

Abruptly, Jihoon asks as he grabs Kyung’s arm to steady him, “Are you happy?” 

In the slowing circles that his mind runs in from the dizziness, Kyung finds the clarity to respond, still grinning but now falteringly so, “No, not really.” 

It gets dark out late in summer. But Kyung and Jiho, they still spend time together until the sun has been buried under the horizon. 

They walk along a line of stores in a small inner street of the city. Some of the small businesses have closed already, but most remain awake, bright neon signs and glowing fluorescent bulbs blinking. 

Kyung takes hold of Jiho’s arm and pulls him back, taking his cup of coffee from his hand and taking a sip from it. 

“Let’s go in,” the younger suggests, tugging Jiho towards the store they stand in the doorway of. Jiho has no objections, tossing his drink in the nearest trash can before following Kyung in without hesitation. 

It’s a thrift store that looks relatively untouched, few others occupying the small, cramped store. In his hurry to drag Jiho along, Kyung nearly makes the other boy trip over boxes that are recklessly strewn around the store’s floor. 

Kyung skims through the racks of clothes, throws a glance over his shoulder at Jiho who does the same, and then turns his attention back to the clothes. 

And then again, between browsing through clothes, a look given to Jiho. 

Jiho looks up, meeting the younger’s gaze. 

“What?”

Kyung, flustered at having been caught watching, laughs, shaking his head. To cover the truth, to keep from being sappy and embarrassing, he lies, “Oh, I was trying to pick something for you, I was deciding what would look good.”

Hearing that, Jiho’s eyes squint with how he smiles. Kyung holds his breath. “Okay, I’ll look for you too. It’s like a game.” 

This is so good. This is his favorite way to spend time. With his best friend, doing stupid, pointless things and not having to withhold himself. He can be how he wants, Jiho will love him regardless. 

And, sure, he’s terrified of when it ends. But that fear has never been enough, and pain never a lesson taught any better, so that he might shy away from this relationship. He knows by Jiho’s changing moods too, that he feels it the same. Things haven’t felt quite right since that day late in February. He’s afraid and that apprehension of what lingers around the corner haunts, but it can’t be enough.

Anyway, what can be done now? Kyung doesn’t think there’s any point in wanting to try and quiet the vengeful fires in his friends’ hearts now. 

Jiho takes much longer than Kyung does, and he worries that Jiho might be taking this more seriously than he had thought of it as being. But before Kyung can reevaluate his own choices to match the effort Jiho has put into his picks, Jiho is returning. 

“Here, I’m done,” Jiho is saying, several different fabrics bunched in his hands as he turns to Kyung. 

They get the key for the fitting room and giggling through nerves so that it might hide the false-confidence, slip into the single fitting room at the back of the store. It’s well enough hidden, they argue, there at the end of the over-crowded store that has only a few individuals in it anyway. It’s the type of decision that proves their recklessness never recedes despite the hardships dealt to them 

Kyung dumps everything on a wooden stool in the corner of the small room and takes a sweater that Jiho has gotten him to try.

The sleeves hang past his hands. He manages to bunch one up and hold it in his palm to keep it from covering his fingers, but in the struggle to do that, the other slides down one shoulder and he loses his hand in the fabric.

It’s big on Kyung, he knew that before he had even put it on, but he assumes Jiho meant for it to be that way. 

Jiho laughs, going to hug Kyung.

“You’re so tiny, I could just pick you up,” Jiho whispers affectionately, laughing again when Kyung pushes him away. 

“I’m not _that_ short,” Kyung tries, but when he can’t keep an amused grin off his face, he knows the argument is lost.

Jiho leans against the closed door and casts another long glance at Kyung. “It’s okay, I like it. I like you.” 

__The younger boy rolls his eyes, fingers tugging at the hem of his sweater and accidentally pulling it up enough to expose a sliver of skin just above the waistband of his jeans._ _

__He notices Jiho’s breath hitch and laughs a little too loud._ _

__Kyung tries a few different things Jiho has picked out, wanting to prolong the process so that Jiho won’t see the lazily selected things he’s chosen for the other._ _

__Not just lazily, but jokingly. And maybe selfishly. Just a little selfishly._ _

“Kyung, why _this_.” 

__Kyung covers his face in embarrassment, suddenly unable to play it off as a joke now that he can see Jiho holding onto what he’s expected to wear. It was meant to be a joke. Honest._ _

__“You don’t have to,” Kyung sounds a bit more awkward than he had anticipated, “I was only kidding.”_ _

__Jiho stares at Kyung’s face then at the skirt in his own hands._ _

“You know, I would, if you really wanted.” Of course. Jiho is all Kyung's. He would do anything and everything for Kyung. 

__Kyung nearly chokes on air, or forgets how to breathe it, whatever it is that happens, Jiho notices it and smirks._ _

__“No, no, I was kidding.” He doesn’t think he would be able to survive it._ _

__The embarrassment dyeing his cheeks with a rosy blush, Kyung averts eye contact. He can’t stand the smug look on Jiho’s face, and it refuses to leave._ _

__“Kidding, okay? I was kidding,” Kyung insists, but Jiho doesn’t buy it. So, Kyung steps towards Jiho, kissing his smirk, leaving him to drop the clothing and place his hands at Kyung’s hips instead._ _

__Kyung pulls away, holding Jiho’s face near in his hands. He wants to remember this, remember the way Jiho smiles, the way short tufts of hair poke out from under his beanie and curl around his ears, the way he’s so close. So tangible, so real, so his. Always haunting Kyung, the thought returns: he wants this forever._ _

__They sneak out, buying nothing and feeling unreasonably guilty over that of all things, and continue down the street._ _

__Yellow strings of lights stretched between the stores on either side of the street glitter overhead, like stars hanging low. They reflect in Jiho’s eyes, Kyung notices, when he looks at the older boy’s profile._ _

__Jiho turns to Kyung suddenly, hand brushing against his but not taking it, because they’re not alone._ _

__“This is gonna sound stupid, but I wanna take you to do more dumb boyfriend stuff, tonight was fun,” Jiho pauses to look away, face surely pink with embarrassment, “In the summer, when you’re done with school, I’ll take you everywhere.”_ _

__It is stupid and cheesy but Kyung is so, so in love that he doesn’t even really notice. He wants to hold Jiho’s hand, kiss him._ _

__All Kyung can say in return is a quiet, “I don’t know how it’s possible to love someone so much.”_ _

__Kyung goes home on his own. Jiho says he has to go meet with the other boys at the usually place, and when Kyung suggests he come too, the older boy stutters, words coming out choppy as he seeks excuses to keep Kyung from joining them._ _

__Kyung knows what that means, and he’s too tired to argue. So, he leaves Jiho to it, slightly hurt, but still in love._ _

__He goes home drunk on thoughts of how he loves Jiho. Merging with common thoughts of love are thoughts born of fear. With each step towards his home his anxiety grows, preys on him greedily, taking his blood as nourishment, growing uncontrollable. Kyung can’t shake the feeling; can’t tell why he feels this way. He has often left Jiho to his own devices even when knowing them to be dangerous. He has always trusted Jiho. He trusts Jiho. But then, why can't he rid himself of this feeling?_ _

__At the dinner table, he feels his appetite leave him. His sister casts him a concerned glance but says nothing._ _

__He wonders what goes on with the other boys. What trouble they’ve found for themselves tonight._ _

__As if on cue, the phone rings and Kyung’s spoon drops, clattering as it hits the bowl under it._ _

__Fear climbs, eats and eats. A corpse animated with nothing but that, he rushes to the phone. The voices of dread tell him to take it before anyone else can._ _

__Everything else falls away. He ignores his parents asking who it is on the phone, doesn’t care if they watch and stare. They are so far away, they have been distant for so long. Somewhere along the way, Kyung had left them behind in his taking this different life._ _

__“Hello?”_ _

__A long silence._ _

__A long way here._ _

__“Kyung? Kyung. I can’t find Jiho.”_ _

__“What do you mean?” Jihoon?_ _

__No answer comes. But he hears sounds, distantly. So, he tries again, desperation climbing, confusion building, “What do you mean?”_ _

__He knows where._ _

__He drops the phone and without a word, rushes outside, in such a hurry that he can’t even hear the alarmed shouting of his family as the door shuts._ _

__And strangely, the anxiety settles. All the anticipation, Kyung concludes, must have been for this moment. The foreboding has eaten away all that he was, and the suffering has too, so that at the end of these two long years he has found himself here, anew. He cannot have fear, cannot have pain, his nerves have been burnt away. They have been meant for this._ _

__He knew of it from the start._ _

__He leaves home without a second thought. In the past, that younger person, he would have been torn between old and new. Once, he would not have known a place of belonging, a side to pick._ _

__It’s dark out, black puddles holding unwavering replicas of the moon. There’s an unbothered bliss settled over the neighborhood, as there always is. Its boring silence looks so safe and desirable now. He’s grown up here but in the past two years it has become so alien. This is only another source of his solitude, another barrier that divides him from who he is and where he belongs. Maybe once he fit here, once as a child with hands grabbing and wondering and still unknowing. But he’s needed to escape for a while now, has needed the space because this has become too constricting. Even if it is easy, it’s not right._ _

__Kyung is already down the driveway and running down the street, face bitten red by the night time cold. He hurries to pull on his jacket as he runs, struggling with the zipper so long that he gives up on it. The cold air burns to breathe in or maybe that’s the searing panic that’s invaded his nerves and has made a home among native veins._ _

__White light flashes on him and he freezes, squinting at its source to see who’s followed him._ _

__His sister stands there, hugging her coat close to herself and flashlight in one hand. “Kyung, can’t you just tell me, what’s going on,” She yells to him, wind and the rush of blood past his ears drowning out half the sound. But he knows._ _

__With the conviction of a man who knows all, he has decided that this is certainly the end. He has been worn thin by the stress and eaten away by guilt, as if the physical beatings and burnings and hurting weren’t enough. He’s reached his capacity and Jiho has too. They all have. They were bound to reach this point from the start._ _

__Kyung has felt angry for a long time. He’s been angry that their circumstances were so unfair, that they wasted their youth growing up in an environment so hostile. But that pride and undaunted resolution has been stripped away. There is nothing but sorrow and apology between his teeth now, ready to be spoken. He’s sorry that they’ve been youth like weeds, adamant on growing where they don’t belong. He’s sorry to her, for making her witness it from a blind spot._ _

__Drowning in light and silence, Kyung finally speaks up, “I’m sorry. I love him.” He’s so sorry that he loves Jiho as much as he does. He loves Jiho so, so much and it has hurt for as long as he can remember but the fact remains: he loves Jiho so much._ _

__He doesn’t tell her more. If she understands, then all is good. If she doesn’t, then so be it. And if tomorrow his parents know and they want him dead, that’s okay too._ _

__Then he’s turned away from the light and runs because there’s not a lot of time when you’re living this lifestyle. She might never understand because this is a life for boys like him and boys like Jiho. Not many can know it, not many want to, and maybe that’s just the problem._ _

__It’s dark and the tension tightens the air, yet in this moment where Kyung would naturally submit to fear, all he feels is the dread of an impending misfortune. He feels it in the heaviness of his heart and the way he’s slowed by incredible helplessness._ _

__He feels deaf and dumb, just numbly searching for Jiho’s boys, for _his_ boys. He feels terrified in a new way, not in one that is self-centered or applied to the worldly desires of success and reputation. All he wants is for everyone to be okay, he wants it all to be over. However, he’s learned. The naivety has drained from him entirely now, having left him gradually as he abandoned the person he was. As this new, adult person he has come to know that there is never a gracious gift of luck, because luck isn’t on their side. Nothing is on their side, never has been, and that’s why they’re here._ _

__When he finds them, there’s no shock, no surprise, that they’re witnessing their failure. It’s no surprise because the weight has been building up for so long, it was only so long until it all would crash down on them. This is their undoing._ _

__It is there a few streets away from their usual place of meeting, where Jiho had said he would be with the others._ _

__He sees Jinwoo first, shrouded in darkness but for a streak of white light that falls over him from a lamp post, eyes wide and glassy like an animal startled and near death. He’s huddled so defenselessly that Kyung feels it’s wrong for him to even look at Jinwoo in this state. It’s insulting, humiliating even, for Jinwoo to be seen like this by someone as insignificant as himself, Kyung thinks. He hates it, somehow just seeing Jinwoo like this, makes him sick._ _

__Kyung doesn’t ask anything, doesn’t have the right to or the need to. He looks away, but the image of the older man remains plastered to the back of his mind: a trembling Jinwoo clutching at a gaping hole in his abdomen, fingers black with blood and nighttime darkness._ _

__Kyung keeps going, doesn’t stop for longer than a second when he spots some of his boys struggling to keep their own. He’s overwhelmed by the chaotic nature of what’s happened. He can’t deny that he is looking for Jiho. Everything has become so wild, so dangerous, that Kyung is sure only Jiho will know how to fix this. He and Jiho will figure it out, they can, if he just gets there fast enough._ _

__With everyone busy with their own trouble, he slips unnoticed into the next alley and searches for his boyfriend. In the dark he can barely see anything, and behind him the noise seems drowned out by the rush of blood and adrenaline. All he can think is to find Jiho._ _

__It’s not until the end of the alley that he spots Jiho. When he sees him, he can’t suppress the choked sob that bubbles up in his throat. Shaking, he presses a hand to his mouth to muffle his own crying, dropping down to the ground to look at Jiho._ _

__The older boy sits against the wall, legs stretched out before him and head tilted back. Little streams of blood running from his nose merge with a thick, glossy pool of the same dark liquid under his mouth, and the shoulder of his shirt is soaked black. His entire body shakes with the effort to breathe, a choking sound coming with every few breaths as if he were gargling viscous, sweet honey._ _

__“Jiho, Jiho,” Kyung whimpers, searching for the older boy’s hands in the darkness, desperate to hold on. Jiho blinks at him slowly, no words forming. He has nothing to offer, only that empty, defeated stare._ _

__“Please, Jiho. Please tell you’re going to do something, you’re going to take care of us,” Kyung begs, finding Jiho’s hands and twining their fingers together, all the while ignoring the way Jiho’s hands tremor. He holds on tight and keeps searching Jiho’s face for some hope, for the slightest bit of fight left in him. But the defiance, the rebellion and the rage, it has all left him. He’s learning now that he’s made a mistake. This is the downfall of Woo Jiho._ _

__Kyung holds the older boy's hands to his own head and cries, closing his eyes so that a comforting blindness envelopes him. Still unseeing, he whispers another desperate question, “What do I do?”_ _

__He pulls away to look at Jiho, seeking guidance._ _

__Translucent tears form tracks down Jiho’s face and he shakes his head slowly, grasping Kyung’s hands tighter. “There’s nothing we can do,” He answers almost unintelligibly._ _

__Of course, Kyung has always known that they were going to reach their end prematurely. He’s expressed the thought indefinitely, has claimed it time and time again, that they were headed in this direction. Yet, the real thing is strikingly harsher, so much more difficult to cope with. He doesn’t want his friends to _die_. All he can do is choke on muffled sobs and shake his head, whispering “no,” as denial tries to shield him from the bitter truth. _ _

__Jiho promised they would be okay._ _

__Kyung is getting up, suddenly light-headed, when the sounds of shouting break through the protective silence Kyung had fabricated for himself. All the noise he has blocked out returns to him, and it occurs to Jiho too, judging by the way he straightens up and turns to stare down the alley._ _

__A shrill ringing fills the air, Kyung thinks. He looks back at Jiho once, who tries to push himself up only to pathetically collapse against the hard cement of the ground. Kyung directs his attention away, sprinting towards the sound. The ringing in his ears follows, deafening him from anything the other boys try to tell him when he gets there._ _

__When he turns the corner, he's overcome by a lack of understanding. What he sees is a blatant truth, violence that has met its aspirations, yet the sight is lost in a wild disconnect with his brain. He can't accept it._ _

__Displayed at the center of action pulled to a startled stand still is Jihoon, body crumpled and hands grasping at something towards his chest._ _

__The shock freezes Kyung and he struggled for minutes trying to break free of it. Then he's running to Jihoon, falling to his knees in a hurry to do something, even when there's the other men looking over him. Men who hate him first, and then with Jiho’s help became men who wanted revenge, too. They did this, yet Kyung can’t feel angry. Honestly, wholly, all he needs is for everyone to be okay._ _

__He tries to grab a hold of Jihoon, to reposition him, but what he's met with chills his heart and brings tears returning to the corners of his eyes. Jihoon chokes and coughs, spluttering through warm blood that runs down his chin. The cascade of red petal-like patches run down his neck and Kyung follows them until he sees the horror that has come to Jihoon._ _

__The front of his shirt is almost fully soaked red, blood still gushing in an irreversible flood._ _

__“He can't breathe, he's going to suffocate,” Kyung cries, plunging his hands into the red of Jihoon’s chest as if he could patch the punctures in the younger boy's lungs with his palms._ _

__This isn’t right. Jiho _promised_ he’d take care of them. _ _

__Kyung grips the front of Jihoon’s shirt, feeling the lifeless slumping of the other’s body, weight leaned against Kyung’s hands. Jihoon is dead, and Kyung knows._ _

__Jiho said they would be okay. He used to say that all the suffering was for them. Jiho spoke like they had futures, like they had forevers and Kyung must have believed it. But the cruel reality is in no way similar to Kyung’s stupid idealities._ _

__When Kyung looks up, he realizes that everyone has fled. Only his boys linger, uncertainty and grief mingling. Kyung looks up at them, face wet with tears, and says in a voice that wavers, “You guys have to go, I'm going to call the police.” Then he rises, wiping his hands on his jeans. This is the burden he’s been meant to be receiving for a long time._ _

__It doesn't take long for the authorities to arrive, and when they do, they let Kyung lead them to Jiho and Jinwoo. He insists he go with Jiho until they let him, something in the way his voice breaks convincing them._ _

__A moment before leaving the scene, he sees them covering Jihoon’s body, and the urge to sob can hardly be suppressed._ _

__While he's waiting for some type of confirmation that the older two are going to be okay, some of the officers try questioning him. His answers are vague and clouded by shock, but they write it all down anyway._ _

__“What did the suspects look like?”  
“There were a lot of them.”  
“Anyone in particular you remember?”  
“No.” 

__They try ceaselessly, pausing only to try offering him food and giving him time to clean himself up after they're sure they've collected the evidence they need. The case will be dropped soon anyway, Kyung is sure._ _

__When the questions become too difficult to bear, Kyung shakes his head and tells them, “I just went to find my friends. I don't know anything else.” They leave it at that._ _

__When he's approached again, almost hours later, it's by a nurse with a kind smile. Kyung still feels distrusting of it. He wipes his tears on his sleeve and nods when she asks if he'd like to call home._ _

__He’s relieved when his sister comes to get him. He's still shaky when he stands and goes to her, and he knows his eyes are puffy and reddened by all his crying. She hugs him and he tries not to cry again._ _

__The drive back is silent. Kyung watches out the window the entire time. When they get home, he expects being exposed to his parents. He’s mentally prepared for the angry fit they will welcome him with, so when his sister steps before him and says she had gone to pick him up from a harmless party, he’s incredibly thankful._ _

__She follows Kyung up the stairs, and he thinks he owes it to her to listen to her before disappearing into his room, so he stops before the door of his room._ _

__“I won’t ask now,” is all she says before turning to vanish into her own room, door clicking shut behind her. Kyung stands there for a minute longer, unable to stop the tears from starting again._ _

__His head feels so heavy. The weight of the past two years lays leaden across him. Unable to withstand it any longer, he collapses into bed and presses his face into his palms, sobbing uncontrollably. The same hands that had been warm with Jihoon’s blood, now pristine and unmarred, as if nothing had ever happened. It’s all deception, it was foolish to ever think he could leave one life behind so easily in exchange for another. Even if he can convince everyone from his former life that nothing had ever happened, this sorrow will still eat away at him indefinitely, it seems._ _

And, he thinks of how the stars had surely been there that night. Under their watchful gaze was no safety. Jihoon died in their gracious presence. He thinks of how there has never been any security in belief placed among stars. How they have never heard a single plea from him, never answered. His faith had been misplaced, his hope stupid. He was stupid to believe in Jiho.

__He can’t even mourn properly, other fears consuming him. He’s plagued with thoughts like that, thoughts of how Jiho will cover the cost of it all, and how they’ll get the authorities to leave them alone, of how the other boys are dealing with the pain, and how Seunghoon might not see Jinwoo living again. He thinks of all those things and cries until he’s so tired it’s impossible to stay conscious._ _

__For several days, he doesn’t see Jiho, he doesn’t see anyone. He doesn’t get to go to the hospital because his parents have grown too suspicious, and because he’s just barely made it out alive. When he does see Taeil, for the first time it is unabashedly at his doorstep in broad daylight._ _

__They stand in silence for some time, Kyung just holding the door open, aware that his mother peers curiously from behind him. He knows they need to talk and steps out, shutting the door behind himself._ _

__“I’m sorry,” Kyung whispers, and Taeil just nods. He looks like he hasn’t been sleeping much, either. Kyung closes his eyes and breathes in slow, asks, “Are Jiho and Jinwoo okay?” Taeil nods slowly, doesn’t elaborate._ _

__They don’t say much else. Taeil tells him of a funeral for Jihoon, how they’re all going to go, except Jinwoo, who won’t get out of the hospital in time. Kyung nods slowly, eyes glassy with tears that threaten to spill again. But he suppresses the sadness, because in another minute he’ll have to turn around and return to his life of simplicity and comfort, where he could never explain the reason to his crying. So, he just nods and turns to go back inside, and Taeil takes no offense to the tense exchange. He’d rather not talk anyway._ _

__Jihoon had died in a way that was horrible. The images of the bloodied boy haunt Kyung. Afterwards it had been clarified that someone had stabbed him, the blade lengthy enough to fit between his ribs and pierce vital organs, namely his lungs. At that point he had become almost instantly deceased, choking on his own blood as his respiratory tract failed and oxygen could no longer pass the chamber in his lungs. It was a terrifying way to die._ _

__The day before the funeral, Kyung’s mother notices his attire set out for the following day. She asks him about it and he answers mechanically that there is a funeral for a classmate that had passed away. Their relationship has become too hostile, too strained, for her to offer any input as she might have in the past._ _

__He sees Jiho at the funeral and somehow the relief can’t downplay the overwhelming grief. Briefly, Jiho takes his hand and squeezes. Kyung looks at him and drinks in his appearance: the dark circles under his eyes, the side of his face still slightly swollen, and thinks that he’s glad Jiho is here with him._ _

__Jiho is taking it heavy, Kyung can tell. It doesn’t take long for Jiho to break, crying into his hands. Kyung closes his eyes and breathes out. Kyung wonders if Jiho blames himself._ _

__When everyone’s leaving, Kyung stands by Jiho, letting him sit some time longer._ _

__They regroup with the other boys after. It’s everyone but Jinwoo, so when Seunghoon says he’s going to leave to visit the other man, it’s really no surprise. Yoon tries to stop him, but Seunghoon brushes him off._ _

__“Let me come,” Yoon begs, eyes wide as if he were startled. Kyung looks at him and can tell that the other boy is afraid, that he is vulnerable from the state of not knowing. Yet he has no right to ask Seunghoon to let Yoon go visit Jinwoo. So, he simply watches as Seunghoon leaves without another glance, and Yoon looks on the brink of crying. Kyung isn’t sure why Seunghoon hasn’t allowed anyone else to visit Jinwoo, he can’t tell if it’s Seunghoon himself who stops them or if Jinwoo has requested it. Regardless, the fact remains that no one but Seunghoon has seen Jinwoo since that night._ _

__“We should get something to eat,” Yukwon proposes, voice hoarse. No one disagrees._ _

__They get take-out and go out to sit in the far end of a field at a park. Kyung rids himself of his blazer and sits close to Jiho, wedging his leg under the older boy’s. They don’t really eat, and they don’t talk a lot. They really just need the company, the shared support. Jaehyo tries to say something about Jihoon, but his laugh is watery and wavers, breaking before he can get very far. They leave it at that._ _

__Kyung looks around the circle, notes the cuts and bruises and the pain that evidently burdens them all. He wishes it had never gotten this far, because just seeing them like this makes an indescribable pain grow in his chest._ _

__Jiho drives him home, it feels like a long way back._ _

__Kyung rests his head against the window. When he realizes Jiho is taking a detour, he doesn’t complain._ _

__They pass rolling hills of dried grass._ _

__A familiar place. But not the same. Nothing ever reoccurs; the past is in the past._ _

__No more wanting to run away._ _

He watches the empty miles of grass as they drive by.

Then Jiho is gone from his life, too.

Abandoned, alone, left to his misery, the past plays in his mind.

__Golden fields of swaying wheat like Jiho’s hair freshly dyed, the farm with sheep they drove past during spring break, and the painting that had once hung on the wall as testament to their love._ _

____

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little nervous about this and the next chapter, to be honest!! Thank you for comments and stuff, I really really appreciate it!! I'm [here](https://starlunch.tumblr.com/) in the meanwhile, though I think the wait for the next chapter won't be long. Take care!! ♡


	20. Stellar Remnants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Without much thought, Kyung leans into the other boy’s touch, resting his cheek against his shoulder and closing his eyes tight._

The blinds are drawn and the lights turned out, the room washed in only a cool white stream of light that peaks from between the curtains. Filth has begun to pile; dirty plates of uneaten meals, water bottles barely sipped from once, clothes and albums and miscellaneous little things misplaced and littered about. Amidst it all, Kyung lays in bed, face buried in the sheets as he sleeps for countless hours, sometimes coming to only for brief intervals. Hazily drifting between slumber and consciousness, Kyung forgets the outside world. 

The handle twists, and the door opens, then clicks shut again. There’s the sound of metal sliding as the curtains are dragged apart to allow natural, soft light to flutter in. With a swift slide of plastic, the window opens and with it enters the sound of gently bustling wind and stray leaves from an overlooking tree. Objects are shuffled around and moved in a small attempt to straighten it all out. Then, finally, a weight settles at the edge of the bed. 

“Kyung.”

The boy pulls the heavy corners of the blanket in closer, letting it engulf him in that very comforting, suffocating warmth. 

“Please, Kyung.”

A hand somehow finds his and uncurls his fingers from where they’re fisted in the blanket. He lets his hand be held, turns slowly and peers carefully from under the safety of the sheets. Tired and without energy to struggle, he only watches, refusing to respond. 

His sister looks tired too, but in a different way. Kyung feels sorry for making her suffer. He’s made everyone miserable and now he’s just as fed up with being alive. All he wants is to sleep, so for a while longer he can ignore the mess of a reality awaiting outside this cozy sanctuary.

Kyung’s sister frowns at him and tugs at his hand. “We should talk, Kyung.” Her voice is so soothing and welcoming, Kyung trusts it enough to slowly inch away from the sheets and sit up, still tugging it around his shoulders.

“You...you said you love him.” 

Kyung nods slowly, closing his eyes. He’s too tired to be afraid, but he knows he should be. But everything’s turned too numb in his mind for there to be any rational terror found anymore. 

“That boy, from those pictures I found in your bag, and from that night at the police department. He was your friend,” She keeps going, words cautiously selected. When Kyung gives a single nod, she continues, “You meant you love him?” Kyung looks at her directly then and nods again, gaze unwavering.

“You were in love with a boy.” 

Kyung close his eyes and breathes in sharp. He doesn’t know what to expect, but he shouldn’t extend his trust so far, even with her. She could easily hate him now. When Kyung opens his eyes, her expression remains unchanged, so he speaks finally, “Yeah. I was in love with a boy.” 

And when she stares at him longer, Kyung feels a familiar floundering sensation, as if he were free falling. His composure breaks and for a brief second, he’s left hopelessly scrambling for words. He doesn’t want her to leave him, he’s already become so alone. But he can’t find where to start, he doesn’t know how to convey the intensity of how it had all felt, how he had been burned alive by his own stupid, naive love. He wants to tell her that he’s sorry for disappointing her but he can’t be sorry for loving a boy because he spent too much time learning to accept it. He wants her to know that it’s all over now, that if she wants, she can easily pretend he was never queer. 

Instead, he tells her how it all happened.

He begins with that warm, balmy August that he had met Jiho. He tells her of how Jiho gave him that leather jacket when he was drunk, and how they kissed at the drive-in and how even when they fought, Kyung couldn’t help but love him. He talks about how Jiho laughed at the beach and how he looked driving when rosy pink light from an overlooking sunset washed over him, and how they saw sheep on that road trip that he totally lied about. He gets to how Jiho was his best friend even when things were rough, how the boys turned the empty parking garage into their own, and how Jihoon died and how afraid Kyung was then, and now he’s realizing that he’s still afraid but in a way where he’s frozen with it. 

At the end of his story, that must have stretched on for lifetimes, it is her turn to remain mute. She nods once and squeezes his hand before letting go. And then she leaves, shutting the door quietly behind herself. Kyung feels utterly defeated, so much so that he can’t find any shame in crying again. 

The days cycle out in melodramatic misery. Kyung’s parents give up on trying to ask him to complete school.

The guilt gnaws at his bones until there’s nothing left of them but fine powder like ash. If he had gone with Jiho that night, things wouldn’t be this way. Jihoon wouldn’t be dead. 

He wants to apologize. And he wants to cry. But he’s too ashamed to go to Jihoon’s parents. He killed their son. At their doorstep, flowers, left by visitors wanting to offer condolences. But words could never fill the vacancy left in their home now, the future that Jihoon had had now stolen away, never to be known.

Alone, alone in sorrow. Isolation and despair. 

Grief takes whatever is left of him. Kyung wants it all to end. Every waking moment is plagued with memory and heartache. He wants Jiho to come back, to hold him and tell him he’ll fix things.

But Jiho is a liar. 

Misplaced trust and manipulation of a tender heart. 

Kyung feels used, feels that he’s been taken advantage of. Frustration tells him to blame Jiho, himself, then Jiho again. He blames all, and then himself again. It makes him nauseous, but when he tries to vomit, nothing comes up. He dry heaves, paper wastebasket held in shaking hands, until his throat feels raw and he’s dizzied from sitting up for so long. 

Now Jiho is a coward. He has left Kyung to decay agonizingly slowly. 

It isn’t fair. Kyung gave up everything for Jiho. He had been so, so afraid at first, but he had trusted Jiho. And Jiho hurt him, but Kyung trusted him regardless. Kyung was terrified but he stuck with Jiho through it all. All those times, Kyung had thought Jiho was brave, dauntless. Now he isn’t so sure. 

All he wanted was to be with Jiho.

He has no idea what day it is when comes knocking at his window. It taps incessantly until he tumbles out of bed and breathlessly pries the window open.

Seungyoon. He teeters precariously there, not so experienced at getting up to the window as Jiho had been. Kyung hates that he makes the comparison before any other thought, hates that he had expected Jiho. 

“I’ll come out,” Kyung croaks, surprised at the hoarseness of his own voice.

Sometimes Kyung feels guilty for letting his jealousy form hostility towards Yoon. After their essentially merging groups, it was only a matter of time before they ended up bonding during school as well. Especially with the older boys gone now, the necessity for not only numbers, but company, had outweighed the bitterness or uncertainty between them. These were friendships unable to be found elsewhere, formed on mutual suffering, the same lifestyles, and the understanding of a world of things no one else could ever be told about. But he had never anticipated Yoon to come find him like this, at a time like this. 

He musters the energy to change into something that isn’t his pajamas, and rinses his face with water, spitting several mouthfuls in lieu of making the effort to brush his teeth. Then he tries to climb down the window, but underestimates the extent of his weakness and crashes to the ground before he’s even made it past half-way. 

He opens his eyes to Yoon peering down at him with concern, a hand outstretched to help him up.

“Everyone’s worried about you,” Yoon tells once Kyung has sat up, still there against the house’s wall, amidst the grass and bushes. 

Kyung frowns. “I’m sorry.”

“Come back to us.”

He’s tired. He doesn’t know if he can. 

He hesitates for a long moment, unsure of how to express that thought to Yoon, and is taken aback when Yoon kneels down in the grass beside him and wraps him in a tight hug. 

Without much thought, Kyung leans into the other boy’s touch, resting his cheek against his shoulder and closing his eyes tight. 

“It’s been hard for everyone.” Yoon is lanky and all bones, making it a little uncomfortable with how they’re sat on the floor but it’s somehow still so comforting. 

And then, without much of a pause, and as if reading Kyung’s mind, Yoon adds in assurance, “It’s not your fault.”

Kyung bites into his lower lip to try to keep from crying, but can’t help it when he breaks into soft sobbing. Yoon Holds him tighter still, and Kyung thinks of how unfair it is that people as good as his friends have had to see such hardship.

Yoon takes Kyung to his home, which Kyung is surprised to find isn’t very far at all.

“Don’t worry about being loud, Dad’s passed out drunk and Mom’s at work,” Yoon explains rather nonchalantly, with a cheery demeanor as always. Kyung lingers hesitantly at the door anyway, causing Yoon to impatiently take his wrist and lead him inside.

To his surprise, Mino and Jaehyo are waiting there already, and there’s promise of the others coming some time later.

They force him to take a shower and Yoon lends him clean clothes and Jaehyo forcefully sits Kyung down so that he can brush out the knots in his hair. And Kyung thinks he could cry again.

By the time Taeil and Yukwon drop by, Kyung looks relatively put together, and he’s even willing to eat some of the food the other two have brought with them. 

Like old times, they talk over food and even if things aren’t exactly the same, it isn’t unbearable. Kyung doesn’t speak much, but he appreciates the company more than they could ever know. 

Then, suddenly, everyone quiets, watching Kyung eat. They glance at one another until Kyung notices before they can say anything.

“What?”

There’s another series of glances exchanged, panicked expressions and an awkward silence making Kyung uneasy. But finally, it’s Yukwon who says it. 

“Have you seen Jiho?” 

Kyung frowns. “No.” 

Even with everything that had happened, Kyung misses Jiho. He wishes Jiho would come back to him, at least for a moment, so that he could have closure if nothing else. But Jiho never comes.

Slowly, Kyung returns to school. It isn’t easy. Seeing the empty table at lunch brings a lump to his throat, tears threatening to spill. He misses when everyone was there, when Jihoon was there. 

Kyung combs out his hair. The blond is gone, has been for some time now. He’s done acting out, to his parents’ relief. No more. 

Quietly, he lives out the remaining days of the season. He completes school without complaint, arriving everyday now that he has no one to distract him from it.

Yoon waits for Kyung after school. They live not far from one another. It makes sense to walk home together. They’re friends. But it annoys Kyung. It reminds him of when Jiho used to wait for him, of how they would walk hand in hand, and then of how they would drive slow under melted honey skies, and then of how Jiho left. 

“Are you still waiting for Jiho?” 

Kyung stops walking. He wishes Yoon weren’t so blunt. “Yeah.”

“I think everyone is. He always knows what to do.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think he, all of us, we were all right and it’s the rest of the world that was wrong. I think you were right and Jiho was right.”

Kyung shakes his head and places a hand at Yoon’s shoulder, “Then we would be alright now too.” He fails to sound lighthearted about it.

“We will be,” Yoon counters, lips pursed in a pout. Adorable and youthful, but Kyung knows he is well experienced in the mechanics of grief. 

“You’ve lost people and I’ve lost people too. We were wrong. And Jiho was too.” 

Yoon looks at Kyung for a long time, a shadow of sorrow falling across his face for a moment. “Some things are meant to be,” he says definitively, firm in his belief that they made no error.

Kyung finds this blind trust that Yoon has always had in Seunghoon, and in anyone else that Seunghoon trusts, as being stupid, so he says as such, “You’re delusional, how can you think this was unavoidable?”

The other boy smiles softly. “It’s like fate.” 

Kyung’s heart skips a beat. _Fate_. He feels cruel for having questioned Yoon’s undaunted belief in the other boys. The tenderness found in Yoon’s heart despite all that he has been through is proof, Kyung thinks, that there is hope of repair.

“I believe you.” 

Kyung changes his mind. Maybe it’s Yoon’s bluntness that he needs. Maybe it’s time to let go. Times have changed.

He wishes he could hold Jiho again. He wants to cradle the older boy’s head in his lap and comb fingers through his hair, listening to his voice, thickened by sleep, as he rambles on about art and music and anything, anything, anything. It doesn’t matter, Kyung just wants to be near Jiho, hold his hands and see his face. He wants, he has always wanted. 

A lot has changed. Clumsy hands, uncertain and inexperienced, becoming steady. A stranger's body turned familiar, becoming melded to his own. He has both given and taken. Their love is the push and pull of the tides, wrapped around the moon's finger.

Or it had been. Kyung doesn’t know how to think of it anymore. Had been, he concludes quickly, is the best phrase for it. The time to let go has come. 

Time quells the fire in Kyung’s mind. Gradually, he finds clarity again. It is empty, coming to him in the form of facing himself in the mirror and reciting age-old questions once more. Where does the blame sit, and what has Jiho done wrong, and what has he himself done wrong? In the gaunt, soulless stare from the boy in the mirror, Kyung learns that the questions do not answer themselves. The reflection is mute, _seek out revelation elsewhere._ Clarity is empty. 

There is only one place where the truth sits. And even if it is fate (Kyung is not sure of that) it will not come to him without being stirred by his own hand. Once more, he must seek out. 

It was meant to occur without Kyung’s knowing. To expect Kyung to not know was idiotic, because Kyung knew most everything now. And that which he did not know was because he didn’t find it important to be known. Kyung had grown a lot, he had practically become a new person, and his intelligence could only have grown since the start. And now he knew all. 

So, he finds out.

It’s warm out, the first breathes of spring rekindling life into wildlife long since frozen over, and a new tenderness thawing in Kyung’s heart with it. He’s incredibly tired, but finds the energy to knock at Jiho’s apartment door anyway. No one answers. He has the keys, but doesn’t bother to take them out. Kyung tries the door, neither pleased nor surprised when the door swings open. 

It’s empty, somehow emptier than Kyung had known before, which is absurd. It has _always_ been empty, but right now something feels altered. Kyung doesn’t go beyond a single step in, standing in the doorway and watching this space that has become foreign. 

“Kyung,” a startled voice comes, stunned and choked out in alarm, but still so familiar. It’s that same deep, gravelly voice that has whispered sweet nothings and laughed out stupid stories and promised wavering pledges to Kyung time and time again. 

Kyung looks at the adjacent door where that boy stands, the person he’s given up so much for, and he can’t find any energy to be heartbroken when he bluntly accuses, “You’re leaving me.” 

Jiho doesn’t deny it, just stands there frozen for a moment longer, staring at Kyung with an expression that to anyone else might have been unreadable. But Kyung knows, because he feels it too. The pain has become crippling.

There’s possibly a growing anger bubbling in Kyung’s chest, the hurt of being kept in the dark making him bitter again, but it is all drained from him when he feels Jiho’s arms around him. Instantly any ill feelings harbored in his mind vanish as he reciprocates the tight hold Jiho has around him, burying his face in the older boy's chest and trying not to sob with the overwhelming sensation of it all, of the incomprehensible magnitude of this love. 

“Kyung, I didn’t want to—” Jiho starts out, pressing his face into Kyung’s hair to leave a kiss there, only then he doesn’t lift his head after a moment. Kyung feels the shaking of his lover’s body as his composure disintegrates into quiet crying. Kyung clings on harder, one hand bunching up the fabric of Jiho’s shirt in his fist. It’s a scalding type of love, something that only ever intensifies in its violence. 

Slowly, so very hesitantly, Kyung pulls away from Jiho, one hand still clenching his shirt, as there’s an unshakable fear of losing Jiho if he lets go. “Tell me everything,” Kyung whispers his demand, voice wavering when their eyes meet. 

They talk for a long time. With their hands clasped together and their uncertainties dismissed, they recapitulate it all. That’s all it is, words that have been repressed for too long, finally liberated so that their thoughts can finally align. After so long of this endless struggle to arrive at a mutual understanding, they’re finally starting that journey, with hands held and steps cautious, thought out and placed delicately. They’ve both nurtured such different understandings of their shared world yet somehow their mingling ideologies make complete sense. All the little gaps in the story fill in and closure settles over the pair in a comforting embrace. 

“I didn’t want to tell you,” Jiho finally reiterates, “I’m afraid.” 

Kyung looks down at their hands, the way they fit together as if they were created to do just that. But if he thinks of himself and Jiho as individuals, they’re hardly alike in any aspect. Not physically, where Jiho is tall and broad while Kyung is petite. Not in their directions of thought either, where Jiho acts on his passion, and Kyung calls upon careful logic. Not even their origins match, when Kyung has been raised in acceptance where Jiho has met rejection. They’re different in so many ways, it’s nonsensical to think that they were truly made for one another. However, that can’t undermine the validity of their love. Maybe they weren’t decided as soulmates, but perhaps that wouldn’t be so phenomenal as what they are instead. They fought for the sliver of love that they cultivated between themselves, like a flame lit between their palms at the touch of their fingertips. Albeit briefly, they managed to let it become paramount to any cliché romance dictated as destiny by some celestial being, maybe even surpassed it. Self-made soulmates.

But they were not meant to be. This isn’t anything like that, because reality never functions in definite patterns. Nothing is predestined or written in the stars, no prophecy hidden behind curling purple clouds. Anyway, they’re young, there’s more than just this before them.

Jiho tells him sorry until it sounds fuzzy and obscured being said anymore. At least a hundred times the word slips past his lips as apologies gathered for months spill earnestly in desperation to mend what has been done. Kyung doesn’t forgive but he accepts and he knows. 

Staring at their hands, Jiho explains, “So I’m going to fix things, there’s too much that’s been done here.” Kyung understands. He knows. 

To put it bluntly, Kyung won’t stop him. Jiho tells of how for so long he’s wanted to be accepted, until eventually he didn’t want even that. He only wanted to be allowed to exist. Somewhere along the desperation to have that he lost hold of the initial aspiration. Kyung understands that too. He believes he had felt it too, the utter helplessness in the face of the world, and how all he wanted was to be left alone. He remembers feeling afraid until that terror became anger.

Somewhere they went wrong. Or, rather, they went wrong in a lot of places. 

“Never keep secrets from me ever again,” Kyung demands in a hushed whisper, bringing his face close to Jiho’s. The older boy nods solemnly, eyes wide and eyebrows drawn together in concentration. Even if it is difficult, they won’t let secrets interrupt what's left of their love. 

Nose to nose, Jiho speaks next with words barely audible, “It’s a bit late. There’s not a lot of time to be without secrets.” Kyung knows that.

“That’s okay,” Kyung answers, closing his eyes as he leans even closer to press a kiss to Jiho’s lips before simply resting their foreheads together.

Beyond the serenity of that moment there’s an incredible sorrow that sets its weight on Kyung’s shoulders. He can’t begin to express the way it aches knowing he’ll be apart from Jiho. It feels like he’s having to give up a part of himself. 

“Maybe I’ll find you in another life,” Jiho offers softly.

“There isn’t anything after this.”

The walk home Kyung cries with his gaze fixed on the cracked sidewalks underfoot. Even when he’s reached his street, he can’t stop sniffling. No matter how many times he wipes at his eyes and tries to regain composure, the tears won’t cease. Jiho is leaving him and it hurts.

No one else can know that Jiho is leaving, so Kyung suffers in solitude. That makes it unbearably worse. He keeps having to witness everyone waiting for Jiho, expectantly watching and hoping. The fact that they mention him in the most mundane ways, as if they can still be together as a whole, strikes Kyung with a pang of revived misery every time.

“When Jiho shows up again we should all go to the beach,” Taeil suggests over lunch one day. Kyung winces at that, withholding input. Jaehyo is already agreeing, “Yeah, we could grab lunch together first.” Kyung keeps his gaze set on his plate, trying to avoid the topic. He has to excuse himself when Taeil tilts his head and recalls, “Didn’t we first meet Kyung on a day like that?” 

In the smallest ways, Kyung has lost himself to Jiho. For as long as he can remember, his entire world has revolved around Jiho, effectively washing away the entire universe. 

He thought Jiho was his universe. 

For so long he let himself believe that that was right, that he could let Jiho drag him in a dizzying delirium from one end of the world to the other in desperation to preserve their togetherness. But here they are, at the end of the world, and it still didn’t work out. Jiho is not the universe. They’re two insignificant specks in context of the endless bounds of existence 

This is hard but it’s not the end of the world. Everyone will face tomorrow with the exact same perspective that they always have, and if for Kyung there’s a little less vigor in it all, no one will know. They’re only two trivial lives. They don’t matter at all. And neither does everything they’ve been through.

Knowing that, having suffered and bled to learn that, Kyung thinks this is the only proper way for them to continue. They’re not together but at the very least they’re alive and they’ll be okay. 

_The rise and fall of Woo Jiho,_ Kyung thinks. 

After that evening, Kyung doesn’t see Jiho. He leaves from Kyung’s life as melodramatically as he had come. Kyung means to tell the others, but they seem to pick up on what happened soon after. Nothing feels the same, even when they make the unspoken agreement to stop mentioning Jiho. It’s as if he never existed to them, but there remains a gap in their conversations, vacant seat between themselves, always an extra drink. 

Kyung goes to Jiho’s home one day as if seeking out Jiho. It’s not that he plans to see the other, he knows they’ve separated paths. But for a while he stands there and watches people come and go across the street, thinks about Jiho who had gone too. And then he turns and walks home, alone.

Thinking back, it might be easiest to blame Jiho for everything that had happened. However, Kyung knows that that isn’t fair. The compliance of them all was to blame as well, and then Seunghoon was right too. At some point, Kyung wanted it that way, even if he wasn’t aware of it. It was easiest to blame Jiho, but no one did, because they loved him too much. 

Classes are boring. Kyung has long since been ostracized by his peers. He doesn’t want to try and mend that part of his old life, deciding that it’s better this way. Even with Jiho gone, this part of Kyung’s identity cannot be altered. He’s learned it the hard way.

He’s really just trying to get through it all, at this point. It’s become a cycle of waking up and coming to school only to wait for it to end. At least he has his boys, they’re still with him, equally miserable.

It’s just them three at school, but Taeil, Jaehyo and Yukwon are always around when they have plans outside of class. Occasionally, Kyung feels like an outsider again, but not in the same way as he did two years ago. It’s just that some days he sees them and feels disconnected, decides he’d rather just watch them and think about it all. Watching them strikes him with a pang of hurt, because in moments like that, he remembers how much has really changed. It reminds him of all that they’ve lost.

Other than that, life returns to being a peaceful, boring repetition of the same day. Kyung can’t complain, just savors all the time he has with the people he loves. He can’t shake that feeling of being terrified that he might lose them.

Kyung gets home one day to his mother cleaning out the house, boxes settled in the living room of things to be dropped off at the charity shop. It hits Kyung then that there isn’t much time at all until his graduation, and that this is routine for this time of year. 

Later, he’s lying in bed reading a book when his mother knocks only to come in unanswered. Kyung looks up.

“I found this jacket,” his mother begins, pausing to lift a leather jacket, a red line across its front, out of a box, “I doubt it’s yours, it looks absolutely ragged, but I figured to ask you before I throw it out.”

Kyung sits up fully and takes a small breath. 

It’s Jiho’s jacket from all those months ago, the one thing he has left of the older boy. It was really cozy, it felt like a huge comfort to have it. But his mother can’t know those things.

“Yeah, I don’t know where it’s from,” Kyung answers in monotone before returning to his book. 

Like that, Jiho is entirely gone from Kyung’s life. No one mentions him anymore, and Kyung can’t find reason to bring up their old friend either. It’s probably for the best this way. So, slowly Kyung patches up the little holes that Jiho had left cut into his heart. He tries to smother the misery under other thoughts, ignoring all the grief that’s built up like plaque clinging to his ribs. 

All the suppression of the past makes him rigid. He stops feeling as _vividly_ as he had prior, as if Jiho had taken all the vibrancy with him. There isn’t anything beautiful left about the overgrown grass that seems to turn dry and yellow early this year, and he’s lost the patience to watch round white clouds over head. 

Living might feel like a chore some days, but Kyung can only feel thankful to be around. He thinks it’s awfully lucky that he found these people, too. They’ve been through a lot, but Kyung can’t imagine things being any different. He wouldn’t want it any other way if it meant not having known these people.

Kyung doesn’t see Jinwoo or Seunghoon much, no one does. He can tell it affects Yoon most. Yoon’s always looking around, maybe clinging to the hope that the older boys will drop by, but they never do. Kyung feels sorry for him. 

Nothing really surprises Kyung anymore. When Seunghoon calls his house one day, asking for Kyung to drop by, Kyung doesn’t think much of it. He goes after school without telling anyone, he’s sure Seunghoon would want it that way. And when he shows up and the apartment is void of all the things that had made it Jinwoo and Seunghoon’s home, Kyung still can’t say he’s surprised. 

“I’m going to skip town, we’ve caused too much shit here,” The older man says. Kyung nods and he can’t deny that it makes him sadder. Kyung doesn’t bother asking where Jinwoo is, if he was even ever released from the hospital. There are reasons for the way things are, and Kyung has given up trying to defy the path of how it all happens. 

Seunghoon leans back against the kitchen counter and pulls from his pocket a folded envelope. “For Yoon,” He says, handing it to Kyung. He takes it and nods slowly, trying not to dwell on the despair. Kyung can’t help but still feel grief at the thought that in better circumstances, they really could’ve been friends. He would’ve really liked that. 

“Thanks for everything, Seunghoon,” Kyung says, and he looks at Seunghoon’s face for a moment longer, wondering if they’ll forget one another. They probably will, eventually. For right now, Kyung wants to remember. Seunghoon has really helped him in ways that maybe hadn’t felt so important at the time, but now Kyung thinks he would have gone astray without. 

He throws a final glance over the apartment that Seunghoon and Jinwoo had lived in. Ponderings of life and lessons of growth had once been shared across that living room, the dog shaped salt shaker witness to that. Jinwoo had asked Kyung of love and Kyung had said once that it was not, and once that it was. And now love was and was not both at once and Kyung is sure Seunghoon would agree. 

When he gets home, the empty living room looks as if it were a fragmented piece away from the rest of the world. In the silence, Kyung stands and stares at the couch for a moment, dots of dust caught by a stream of sunlight from the overlooking windows. Faintly, he thinks he can hear the soft melody of the songs that had once played through the room. 

Kyung remembers he and Jiho had shared their first kiss here. It had been exhilarating and scary. But that was two years ago and now Kyung laughs at his own naive nervousness from back then. He wishes that the extent of their problems had stayed at that brief uncertainty that once came with the early phases of their relationship. 

Kyung talks to Yukwon on the weekend, watching strings of smoke rise from the cigarette held loosely between Yukwon’s fingers. He bites back the request for one. 

“I talked to Minhyuk a few days ago,” Yukwon says. 

“Is he doing alright?”

“Yeah.”

The silence is long and uncomfortable. Kyung doesn’t want to ask, but he wants to know. 

Yukwon thankfully fills the quietness himself, guessing Kyung’ question, “I told him about everything. About Jihoon, you know.” 

Kyung only nods, looking away. He doesn’t like to think of it. 

“He said he was awful sorry. He said it was his fault too and I guess I just dunno about that.” 

In visions of himself in Minhyuk’s truck, at mercy of teasing coming from him and Taeil, Kyung remembers Minhyuk clearest. He misses those days sometimes. That had been back when Minhyuk and Taeil had just learned of Kyung and Jiho’s relationship. If Kyung thinks of who Minhyuk was in that moment, he knows that Minhyuk never wanted harm to come to any of them. So, really, it isn’t his fault that things happened the way that they did.

Kyung doesn’t speak, and no one likes to stay on the topic of Jihoon for long, so Yukwon moves on. He turns to Kyung and frowns, taking a long drag from the cigarette before putting it out against the curb. “I know it’s late, but I’m done messing around. You were right, it isn’t worth it. I’m gonna save up this summer and move out with my girl as soon as we got the money.”

He smiles and Kyung smiles back. “That’s so good to hear,” Kyung says, and he means it, even if he’s afraid of missing Yukwon already. Sorrow and relief mixed becomes sour and sweet flavor that rots his teeth. 

In the mirror, Kyung watches the white markings across his shoulder. He drags out a box of tapes from under his bed and dumps them all into the trash. 

Kyung sits with the others on the beach. Yoon takes his hand and squeezes. Kyung offers him a half-hearted smile, reassurance that all his good, and Yoon returns it. 

If he stares at the long, overgrown grasses along the start of the beach and closes his eyes promptly after, he swears he can see a familiar painting of yellow fields marred by childish fingerprints. 

The day that his sister is leaving, Kyung can’t bear it anymore. He knocks at her room’s door and peeks in, watching her rearrange books in a cardboard box. He has to take a moment to garner the confidence to enter. The effect that her vague response to his coming out was something Kyung would never have expected from himself. All past claims of it not mattering were easily lies. Right now, her lack of support has turned him hesitant. 

He steps in and when she looks up at him and says nothing, takes a deep breath and sits on the floor beside her. When she refuses to speak still, and continues to lift books into the box, Kyung silently joins her in filling the box. 

After some time, Kyung finds it unbearable, so he whispers, “I really, really loved him.” 

She looks up at him and frowns. 

“I’m sorry Kyung. I didn’t know. I didn’t help you.” 

Kyung stares at her, unable to breathe under the pressure of all the emotions crashing into him, old wounds raw again. Yet, there is also an indescribable relief with knowing that she doesn’t hate him, that she still cares about him even if he isn’t the way society wants him to be. 

She takes the book in his hands away from him and lays her hand over his, the broken sorrow written across her expression full of heartache and guilt. Kyung wishes she wouldn’t blame herself.

“It’s not your fault. It couldn’t be helped,” Kyung whispers back, shaking his head lightly. He doesn’t want to cry again, but the confusing emotions make his head hurt and his chest constrict with the burden of it all.

Her gaze wavers and falls away from his face, now focused on the carpet. “Was it worth it?” 

Kyung knows what she means. Was all the suffering worth it if he ended up with nothing at all in the end?

Kyung has thought about it a lot. Lately he seems to have nothing better to do. At the end of it all, he can’t imagine anywhere where things could have been different enough to alter the entire course of what happened. The only solution would have been to let go of Jiho, and Kyung has realized that that was simply unrealistic. And if it hadn’t been Jiho, maybe eventually it’d be some other handsome boy with an endearing, ugly laugh and dark hair and a soft face. In some ways, it was just a part of life, always meant to be. 

Kids fall in and out of love easily, and maybe this wasn't the falling out of love type of romance. This was the being painfully dragged away from love, torn apart violently and heart wrenchingly, type of romance. And that was just the way it was meant to be. 

Knowing that, Kyung nods his head with not a single ounce of uncertainty left. “Yeah,” he closes his eyes at the thought of the boy he had fallen in love with, “I loved him so much.” 

She squeezes his hand and nods too, and when she looks up at him, she forces a small smile. Kyung returns it, content with how things have ended. It’s not perfect, but this is something he wouldn’t have expected to have. Maybe he should’ve told her when she first asked, only Kyung knows it’s pointless to continuously study the past in a form of relayed “what if”s. What’s done is done.

Kyung watches the car leave the driveway, the new vacant space in the household making him feel alone again. He briefly thinks to go to Mino and Yoon for some company to soothe the emptiness, but then decides against it.

He’s not really _sad_. It is bittersweet, and he finds it better to let himself relish in those last happy thoughts, to build up another memory of how he’s found love and acceptance among this giant mess of two years. 

Each day feels incredibly long. Kyung reads through the books on his shelf again, highlighting in blue, color overlapping with previously placed yellow streaks. He goes to the beach and watches the way everything sparkles white when the sun’s setting figure ignites flame to the ripples in water. He feels lonely sometimes. Everything had been so loud and chaotic, his life had been full of noise and color, and now it had become so silent. So much became absent from it. 

Kyung doesn’t hear from his sister anymore. He tries not to mind, he should be used to missing people by now. So, he adds the memory of her to the lot of all the other people he’s trying to ignore. As if none of them had made him cry when they left, as if there isn’t a searing pain in his chest when he thinks about them for even a brief second. 

When the time does come to graduate, Kyung feels no excitement. He hears an eager buzz of joy and freedom ripple through the class body, but it doesn’t mean the same liberation to Kyung. These people are really nothing like him, Kyung concludes. They’re lives are comfortable and easy, and Kyung had been like them once. But he’s severed those ties and has isolated himself like this. Not that he regrets it.

All he can feel is relief, thankful he’s finally reached the end of two long years. He tells his family it’s not a big deal, that he wants them to bring nothing at all. They don’t question it, these days they treat him with caution, as if they are walking on eggshells around him. As if there’s something wrong with him.

Up on the stage, Kyung is sure he won’t notice anyone clap for him. Everyone will look the same, sound the same. And that is exactly how it happens. He walks up and takes his diploma, and for a moment he’s hopeful, and turns his head to look for someone. But out in the crowds of family, classmates and friends, he can’t differentiate any one person from the other. 

When Yoon gets up and stands a second too long on stage, Kyung feels that familiar wrenching heartache. He knows who Yoon is looking for. It hurts to know.

Kyung makes sure to hand him the letter after, saying nothing. All the petty arguments and the bitter jealousy Kyung had held against Yoon seem foolish now. Kyung regrets all that, but he’s not able to express it.

Kyung finds his family after, lets them congratulate him as if he cares, and then he leaves them without any excuse.

He finds the other boys in the parking lot, giving half-hearted congratulations. Kyung smiles big and wide when they see him, and they return the happiness. There’s a melancholic edge to it, one that bites away at Kyung and makes his bones ache. 

There’s no big after parties for them, no going out to eat or to get wasted. All Kyung wants is to spend time with these people, and they’re equally as content with that. 

“You kids are getting old,” Yukwon says, and although he laughs, it doesn’t sound humorous. 

Kyung gets rid of his gown and tears the hat from his head, balling them up and tossing them in the back of Yukwon’s car. He runs a hand through his hair, not doing much in terms of fixing it, but that hadn't been the intention, it's more of a habit now, a little quirk leftover from the endless nights of nerves.

When the other graduating boys come around, now comfortable, Kyung thinks about how he's still somehow looking misplaced. They're dressed down casual as can be, tees unsuited to the chilly weather and a little too big. Yet he is just as integral to their history, equally embedded in the hectic details of it, if not more. 

They're celebration is pitiful and they know it. It's less celebrating and more of a collective mourning for the past few years, even if no one verbally deems it as such. The future weighs down on them, but the past does too, and the reality of their family being torn apart leaves a bitter taste in mouths and dull aching in chests. 

They've sobered up a bit too late but that's just their style. The boys exchange melancholic smiles and wistful stories being retold for what they fear might be the last time. Reminiscing and laughing and hurting together is all they have left. 

Yoon unfolds the letter from Seunghoon as Mino and Jaehyo settle down around him. Kyung stays standing, holding onto his soda, letting Yukwon drape an arm over his shoulders. He shakes his head when Yukwon holds out his cigarette, offering yet knowing the answer already. Little orange embers fall from it, glowing in the growing darkness. The soda tastes a little too sweet. 

He really does feel nostalgic, the past two years stretching on like a lifetime in his mind. Somehow the little details stick out most, tiny fragments of mundane activities and snippets of the phrases he's hung on to. He wants to never forget them, yet he can't feel surprised or even sorrowful when it occurs to him that those moments are already fading from his mind. That's just how it is.

There's a broken little sound from Yoon, and when Kyung looks over, his eyes are wide and glassy. 

"Seungoon left me!" he cries, an indignant shout degenerating into a sob. 

Yoon’s crying fills the vacant street, corners of the letter crumpled in his fists. Yukwon shakes his head and tuts, arm vanishing from around Kyung's shoulders as he walks towards Yoon.

"Stop your crying, Yoon."

Kyung breathes in slow, thinks that maybe he should've taken the cigarette. Looking away from the others, he settles down on the other curb of the driveway and hugs his knees close, resting his cheek on one knee. Everything catches up with him, and for a moment he lets the silence give way to a moment of wallowing in months of suppressed emotions. 

Soundlessly Taeil drops down beside him, his voice coming up to cut through the quiet, “You okay?" 

Kyung nods, sniffling although he's not quite crying yet. Even he himself can't tell if it's the cold or the sadness that makes his eyes watery and nose run. 

They sit like that for a minute, no words passed between them, just sharing a piece of voiceless time. 

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?" 

Kyung nods slowly, tries to maintain his calm.

"I miss Jiho, too,” Taeil continues. 

Hearing his name, hearing his existence finally being acknowledged after so many hard months of pretending he hadn't been at the center of their lives, hits close. Kyung squeezes his eyes shut and breathes in sharp, doesn't bother trying to pretend he's not crying, only buries his face in his hands because of the overwhelming grief. 

Over his own crying he can hear Taeil mumbling curses, but there’s a lack of zeal behind it, like he’s just as broken. Kyung pulls his hands away to look at Taeil, see the anguish mirrored on his face.

“Minhyuk was right, there was no right in a good kid like you getting caught up with a real idiot like Jiho. Bastard.” 

Kyung reaches out to tug at Taeil’s arm. 

He’s thought about this a lot, pondered the entirety of their descent to this point, has considered every possible route. The conclusion never changes, this was no one person’s fault. In the end, no matter how much it hurts, he knows that as time passes so will the sadness. So, he just holds onto to Taeil’s arm and shakes his head, giving a weak smile. “I loved Woo Jiho.” 

Taeil curses again and looks towards the navy sky above, tearing up. “Hell, Kyung. He loved you too. He loved you a whole fucking lot.” 

Kyung gives Taeil’s arm a squeeze and joins him in watching the little specks of white caught in the blackened sky. He knows it’s difficult now, but they’ll get better. 

“He loved you too, loved all of us.” 

In his peripheral vision, Kyung sees Taeil nod fervently because for him too, clinging to that one final sentiment is the only way to start healing. Kyung likes that, likes knowing that even if they’ll never see Jiho again, they’ll remember him for all the love he had to give. 

Maybe in another life, he’ll meet Jiho again. 

The universe has a way. 

So, he keeps on watching the entire galaxies overhead, no longer searching or asking, just letting its vastness envelope him. And he thinks about how once, not so long ago in reference to the whole scheme of things, there was a boy who had all the answers in his hand, even if just for a moment: 

Kyung leans back into the soft, worn cushions and smiles to himself. Jiho comes alive, telling his boys some story that Kyung has heard a hundred times already, and wants to hear a hundred times more. They’ve picked up a whole lot of beat up kids, and made up a family of a different kind. There’s laughter and the last coke is being passed around, more spilled than drunk. He can’t help but think, _everyone here— they’re all truly good people despite it all._ When everyone bursts into laughter, Kyung grins wider, tilts his head back to look at the blurring stars above. In a moment of clarity, he thinks he knows the universe and the meaning of this all. Enveloped in warmth and belonging, he asks earnestly, _so give each one of them a good ending. ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed reading this, and hopefully I tied everything together at least somewhat comprehensively? There was a lot going on, and by the fourth or so time of outlining it, and having reread it countless times, I still couldn’t be sure if I had everything covered. I'm [here](https://starlunch.tumblr.com/) on tumblr if you ever need some clarification or are curious about other stuff, though!
> 
> Besides that, it was fun to write, and really sweet reading comments. So, thank you all for sticking around and reading!! And I'd love to hear how you liked the ending! C: 
> 
> So, that's the end! Take care everyone~


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